


Siren's Song

by Thuri



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-18
Updated: 2006-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an actor burnt out on his roles visits a Scottish beach, the last thing he expects to find is a merman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another alternative universe. And again, the fact that I'm writing Monaboyd is all [](http://elvea87.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://elvea87.livejournal.com/)**elvea87** 's fault.

It hadn't been her fault. Dom could admit that to himself, as he sat there, letting sand slip through his fingers. Nor his, not really. Sham marriages weren't supposed to work out, after all. Elijah had told him, even before he'd started seriously dating her, that it was a mistake. But there had been something in her, in those deep green eyes . . . he'd thought it could work. He was honest with her, wasn't in him not to be, but she'd agreed for reasons of her own. He knew she hadn't meant to fall in love.

But she had, and the little he could give her had no longer been enough. For either of them. The hurt in those eyes, and the pain in her voice . . . they'd both known it was time to end it, while they still had respect for each other at least. And a divorce hardly hurt his career, now that he'd _been_ married. To a woman. It killed the rumors, after all.

So why had it seemed to affect him so much? He eyed the furrows in the sand beside him, little piles forming as it dribbled through his fingers, and frowned. Scripts had kept coming, offers were still there, and yet . . . He'd finished the projects waiting for him, and left. Found a house to rent, close to that same quiet Scottish beach his mother had so loved, and told no one where he was going. Well, no one except Sean, but he'd keep quiet about it.

And here he was. Not sure why he'd come, what he was looking for, what he was doing. Twenty-six, to all outward appearances happy, at the top of his career, and with women everywhere throwing themselves at him in his newly single status. It should have led to something other than this stretch of deserted sand--for it was fall, nearing winter, and the holiday crowds were long gone. He shivered, pulled his hooded sweatshirt tighter around his thin frame, and wished he'd remembered it was colder here. Too much time spent in the California sun.

Sean had asked him. Why _Scotland_ , of all places? When he could go anywhere in the world? Why not somewhere sunny, bright? Somewhere warm, where surfing with a wetsuit was _optional_? Dom remembered, with a crooked smile, the look of bewilderment on Sean's face when he'd admitted the beach here didn't even _have_ decent surf. But this beach . . . Memories of peace, of contentment, of a deeper feeling only partially linked with the childhood holidays he'd spent here welled up even now, despite the chill wind.

Dom had been all of seven and half, when it happened. When he'd gone swimming, despite the cold water. And gone too far, despite his mother's warnings. His older brother had dared him, after all. He now knew the name for the sudden, raging force of water that had pulled him out toward the open sea. A rip tide. He'd fought it, with all the strength in his child's body, not knowing that if he'd merely swum a foot to the side, he'd be safe. Near panic, near to letting go, he thought he'd heard a voice, seen something. A voice that told him how to escape, and there'd been a flash of green eyes, a smiling face, and a tail. He'd made it back to shore with a garbled story of how a 'fish with a face' had saved him, earning him a scolding for telling fibs and a larger one for disobeying and swimming off on his own. It was all right, though, because Matt had gotten in trouble, too.

And he'd never again seen his merman, after all, Dom thought, with a rueful grin, doodling in the sand. But he'd always hoped, a little, coming back here. And always insisted it was a mer _man_ despite the teasing it had caused him. Matt had even mentioned it, when he'd come out to his family, not long after his eighteenth birthday. "No wonder you didn't want a mermaid to rescue, then," he'd teased, and Dom had blushed furiously, unable to hide beneath his usually cheeky grin.

The few locals who heard the story, as his mum had repeated it over and over, thinking it adorable once she'd gotten over the scare, had simply nodded, and spoken of the selkies of old, and how their eyes could bewitch you. Dom's smile faded. She'd had green eyes, but they hadn't been the same.

He stood, brushing sand off his hands, his trousers. The light was fading, and he didn't relish finding his way back after dark. He'd only arrived today, and wasn't sure of the way yet. One last, longing look at the ocean brought him no more answers, nor comfort than he'd arrived with. But the sound of the waves--different than they could ever be in California--did give him a sense of peace that he'd been missing for far too long. He sighed, and trudged back up to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting on the beach

It was early morning, the sun barely risen, when Dom returned to the ocean. He supposed he should have eaten, but he hadn't gone shopping yet, and there was no food in the house. And stopping to eat in the village, when the water was so near . . . Skipping a meal wouldn't hurt him. He parked, climbed out of the car, now properly dressed for the autumn chill in the air. Part of him wondered if he'd manage to do anything else, while he was here, other than drive from his empty house to the empty beach.

Long strides through soft sand took him down to the water's edge. He hesitated, merely looking out to sea. The water was no doubt freezing, but he felt a terrible urge to shuck his clothes and run into it, dive, swim, play . . .

He walked instead, along the edge, shedding his battered old trainers and socks quickly, rolling up his jeans. The water was cold, when the waves lapped over his toes, his feet, but he paid little mind to it. He walked, not really paying attention to where he was going. But not really thinking, either. Just walking, leaving footprints across the beach.

A great stand of rocks finally stopped him. He and Matt had climbed all over them as children, hunting for small animals among the tidepools, playing with the crabs and fish they'd find. He smiled, and tossed his shoes aside, pulling himself up on the rocks, toes and fingers gripping the rough stone.

The tide was out, and he walked as far out on the rocks as he could, water soon on three sides of him. And wondered, again, what he was doing here. Why he'd given up a chance at a television series, given up so much, just to stand here, surrounded by wind and water. And, most importantly of all, why it felt like a fair trade.

 

Even dressed for the weather, the cold eventually became too much. Dom made his way back to the beach, shivering. He again regretted all the weight he'd lost in the past year or so. He tossed his shoes in the back of the car, not bothering to do more than shake the sand off his feet before getting in. Every car he'd used in the past five years had ended up with sand in it, if there'd been an ocean anywhere near, after all.

He spent the rest of the day running errands, getting himself food, a toothbrush to replace the one he'd forgotten, all the assorted necessities of life he'd somehow neglected to bring with him or think of before. And purposefully, didn't think about anything else. Didn't let himself dwell on what he was doing, what had driven him here.

 

Arriving back at the house he'd chosen before dusk, Dom made a startling discovery. One he then berated himself for, as he'd specified beach access, when he'd given his agent instructions for picking the place. But he somehow hadn't noticed the rickety wooden staircase earlier. Of course, he'd done barely more than toss his bags down the day before, and left for the ocean. He'd merely fallen to bed when he'd arrived home, jet lag claiming him.

Forcing himself to put everything away first, he finally descended the stairs, grabbing a flashlight on the way, as the light was already fading.

He was halfway down, when he first heard the singing. The voice, the tune, the words all hovered on the edge of understanding, just out of range. He hurried down the stairs, nearly tripping, anxious to find the song. And the singer.

The rocks rose up on either side as he descended, until he reached a small and private beach, all but cut off from the land around it. A narrow spit of sand connected it to the main beach beyond, and he judged that at high tide even that would disappear.

But, private though it may have been, this beach was not deserted. A small and huddled figure, illuminated by the last dying rays of sunlight, caught his eye as he turned from the staircase.

Dom froze, unsure if he wanted to go on. He hadn't come here to be with other people, after all. Then the song started again, just as haunting and evocative. But now he could tell that the singer sat before him, though the song itself still eluded him. And he found that, though he _could_ retrace his steps, return upstairs, he did not wish to.

But neither did he approach the man, for man it was, whose soft singing so entranced him. He shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, and walked to the water's edge, at the opposite side of the beach, watching covertly.

The singer was small, compact, and huddled into himself, surprisingly broad shoulders hunched slightly. Dom noticed in surprise that he was not looking at the water, but rather back towards the land. His brow furrowed, but he told himself sharply to ignore it, ignore the bloke, whoever he was, and not get involved. He'd come here to work his life out, after all, not complicate it further. Hadn't he?

The singer himself, though, showed no sign of noticing Dom, nor of stopping. His quiet song went on, still just at the edge of recognition, as the sun slipped still lower. And finally Dom could stand it no longer.

He walked across the beach, as if that was all he mean to do, and crossed the singer's line of vision, making a slight show of noticing him. "Hullo," he said, feeling suddenly shy, despite all his training, all his acting skills. "I . . ." He trailed off, as the man looked up.

Green eyes. Green as grass, as leaves, deep as the ocean, caught his own, and held them, flashing in the last few rays of sun. "Hello," came the soft reply, the accent thick and defiantly Scottish. "Not many people know about this beach."

"I'm staying. Up there," Dom supplied, waving his hand towards his house, licking suddenly dry lips. "Only found it tonight."

Bow shaped lips drew back in a soft smile. "I'll probably see more of you, then."

"You're staying around here, too?" Dom asked stupidly, wondering vaguely where all his legendary charm had gone. But then, he was alone and the man in front of him was fucking gorgeous, and Dom always lost his composure when _that_ happened.

The singer shook his head. "Up the shore a bit."

"Oh." Dom wracked his brain, trying to come up with a topic of conversation. He didn't want this to end, but couldn't think of much to say. Not when the man didn't recognize him, hadn't shown any sign of asking for an autograph. Or worse, an introduction to one of Dom's former castmates.

"I'm Billy," he said, pulling himself up, and swaying a little. Without thinking, Dom reached a hand out, and steadied him. "Thanks, mate. Foot fell asleep."

"No problem. Billy," Dom replied, returning the soft smile. "I'm Dom. Dominic, actually, but . . ."

"Pleased to meet you, Dominic," Billy replied, shaking the hand Dom stuck out with another grin, running his thumb across the back of it before letting it go. "You've not been here long, then? If you only found your beach tonight."

"No," Dom admitted, shifting from one foot to the other. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets. The right felt cold, after Billy's touch. "I just got in from California yesterday."

"From California?" Billy's eyebrows rose.

Dom surprised himself by blushing. "Well, yeah. LA. S'where I live. Now."

"What brings you here, then?" Billy asked, sinking back down and gesturing for Dom to do the same. "Unless you consider that a highly personal question from someone you've met only five minutes ago?"

Dom laughed, plopping cross-legged to the sand. "I do, actually. I'm on vacation. Good answer?"

"Good enough. Staying long?"

"Depends," Dom said with a shrug.

"On?"

"If I find what I'm looking for, I suppose."

"And that would be the personal part?" Billy asked, eyes twinkling.

"Yeah." Dom looked out over the water, behind Billy's shoulder. "Though if you mean why _here_ , and not just out of LA . . ." He smiled. "It's this town, these beaches, this stretch of water. I used to come here as a kid, with my family," he explained. "And always . . ." He grinned, a little embarrassed. "This is gonna sound corny."

Billy shrugged. "So?"

Dom blinked. And his grin widened. Yeah. So what? "I feel at peace, here. In a way I don't, looking at the ocean at home. It's like when I do yoga, I suppose, but more. Not just inside me, but like it's outside, too, and . . ." He shook his head. "See? Corny. And you wouldn't think it, when I almost died here as a kid, but I do."

"Not that corny," Billy countered. "I know what you mean." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "The locals say it's because the selkies live near here. The merpeople. And their realm imparts peace to the shore. When they're not luring sailors to their deaths, of course," he added philosophically.

Dom laughed. "You're not local, then. I didn't think so. Glaswegian?" He laughed again, at Billy's look of surprise. "It's the accent, mate. Dead give away."

Billy smiled. "Aye. I'm visiting."

 

It should've, Dom reflected, walking back up the stairs, been more difficult to talk to Billy. He should've felt the time going slowly, felt uncomfortable revealing information about himself. Especially considering how little he'd learned of Billy in return. But it hadn't been, and he wasn't. He'd been more disappointed than he'd wanted to admit, when he'd mentioned the beauty of the rising moon, and Billy had risen suddenly–again swaying alarmingly--exclaiming over the lateness of the hour.

Dom had offered him a ride, not really sure what prompted him, besides the desire to spend more time with this green-eyed man. But Billy had declined, saying simply that he liked the walk, and it really wasn't far. And had again said they'd be likely to see each other again.

Dom looked back into the darkness now shrouding the private beach, a smile playing at his lips. He certainly hoped so.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom remembers

Seven years old again, and so it must have been a dream. Seven years old, watching his parents shiver, his mum saying "It makes me cold just to look at you!" and listening to Matt tease him, for being afraid to swim out on his own.

Seven years old. Standing there in his Star Wars swim trunks, with Darth Vader and his lightsaber glaring out at everyone. Standing with arms clutching his thin chest against the slight chill of the water around his ankles, determined to prove his brother wrong. Even if their mum _had_ forbidden them to go in past their heads.

_The tinny noise of Dom's cell phone sounds in the night air, but he merely grunts and turns over, going deeper into sleep._

He'd done it, too. Gone out as far as he'd been dared, even to the end of the rocks. And had raised himself--treading water, grinning in triumph, ready to wave to Matt--when suddenly he was being carried out to sea. He fought the current, tried to swim against it, as hard as he could, and simply stayed in the same place. Fear flashed over him, panic, and then he was under the water.

Still fighting, though, tired as he was. He could feel it even now, the heaviness against his chest, the need for air, as numbing limbs pushed against the water, pushed and tried to get to shore . . .

_The phone is ringing again. Dom burrows further under the covers. He will not be woken now, not until it ends._

Much later, he'd hear the noises dolphins make, calling to each other. And the noise he heard then was like that. But with a melody to it, a song beneath the clicks and whistles, that he'd never heard since.

And, after the noise, a face beside him. Green eyes, deep green and mesmerizing, and a touch on his arm, pulling him. Down. Pulling him down. He'd fought harder, then, panicking, opening his mouth in a silent scream of bubbles.

The eyes had narrowed, the face--that of a young boy, maybe fifteen--frowned. He shook his head, and moved swiftly, his mouth fitting over Dom's. Seven years old, but he still knew boys weren't supposed to kiss. It wasn't a kiss, though, it was . . . air.

He relaxed, letting himself be pulled down and to the side, and the current disappeared. He bobbed to the surface, the boy behind him. "Swim to shore," a soft, oddly accented voice urged him.

Dom had stared, at green streaked brown hair, at delicately pointed ears, at, yes, silver _scales_ , scattered like freckles across both cheeks. He shivered, even as he floated. "Who . . . ?"

The boy shook his head, urging Dom through the water with a small push. "Swim. Stay to this side. You'll make it, ocean eyes." And then he'd flipped, and disappeared, in a silver-green flash of scales and fins.

Dom had swum to shore, too unnerved to do anything else. He'd made it, barely, and the odd energy that had filled him disappeared, leaving him cold and tired, shivering and weak, as he walked up out of the water. Only to be immediately wrapped in a towel, his mum alternately hugging and scolding him, listening to Matt say "It was _brill_! You just _disappeared_!"

He'd watched, for the boy who saved him, for the rest of the day, trying to convince himself he'd been wrong about the tail. But hadn't seen him again. Ever.

Those eyes though . . .

_The phone rings yet again, and Dom has had enough. He reaches for it blindly, stabs at the button and raises it to his ear._

"What?!"

"Hey, Dom! It's Lij. Where _are_ you, man? Sean won't tell me, but I think he knows, and . . ."

Dom groaned, the slow, soft images of his dream disappearing into hazy memory, forced away by the bustle and steel of Elijah's flat American tones. "Have you got any idea what fucking time it is here?"

"No, I don't," Lij said pleasantly. "I don't know where the hell you _are_ , remember?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom is _not_ thinking about Billy. Really. Just ask him.

Five o'clock in the bloody morning, once Lij was finally satisfied that he hadn't gone insane. Or at least, that he wasn't likely do to anything stupider than he already had. And, even though it had been well after midnight when Dom had finally managed to fall asleep in the first place, it now eluded him.

Cursing meddlesome Americans, and their fucking cheerful voices, harsh from smog and the smoke of cloves (though that was Lij specifically, and not _all_ Americans, a small, entirely too rational portion of his brain reminded him), he gave in and got up, putting the kettle on for tea.

Which was why he was sitting in the garden, cradling his mug to warm his hands and breathing in the fragrant steam, when the sun rose. Watching, not the hills it rose behind, but the water to the west, as rays hit its surface, flashing silver gold, then blue.

Scattered images of his dream, his memory, came back to him with that flash, and Dom shook his head, amused at himself. He was no longer sure if it had happened that way, or if he'd embellished the memory too much. After all, _Splash_ had premiered not too long after, he thought with a grin.

Of course, it didn't change the fact that his merman had looked different from Madison. Hollywood hadn't added the green streaked hair, the scales on his face and arms, the pointed ears . . . And Dom was sure they _would_ have, if they'd thought of it.

He sighed, taking a long sip of his tea, contemplation of one pair of green eyes leading to another. More real, more immediate, and more compelling, even. Billy.

Gorgeous, definitely, with those eyes, that soft voice and infectious grin. Dom smiled, remembering his laugh. And his mouth, bow shaped lips, so expressive. Dom's fingers had itched to run through the tousled cinnamon hair, slightly too long around ears and collar. Though whether to straighten it, or muss it further, he still wasn't sure.

Dom laughed at himself again, taking another drink of tea, and shook his head. Jumping to conclusions there, Monaghan, he reminded himself. No solid evidence Billy'd even be interested in _any_ bloke, much less Dom, with his too big ears and nose, his crooked chin. Still . . . he had said they'd see each other again. A half-promise that made Dom want to fly head long down the rickety staircase, just in case the green-eyed singer had returned.

He finished his tea, instead.

 

Through a force of will he hadn't known he possessed, Dom managed to keep from going down to the beach until early afternoon. He set things in order, around the house. He unpacked. He set up the Playstation. He took a walk into the village, when he discovered he hadn't bought bread. He chatted amiably with his new neighbor, a friendly–if nosy–old woman, who told him repeatedly that he looked "just like that sweet boy on that so-and-so Investigates show." He very carefully did _not_ tell her he _was_ that boy.

She'd stopped him right at his gate, and he hefted the bag with the bread (and other baked goodies he hadn't been able to resist. Fuck staying skinny, he was too damn cold!) cocking his hip and resting it there. Mostly, he smiled and nodded, responding appropriately to questions, using skills developed through hundreds of fan encounters. And at least she wasn't looking at him as if he were edible. _That_ made a nice change.

But he paid little enough attention to her talk, until she mentioned other vacationers. "We don't usually get many of you out here, this time of year. But three houses full on this end of town alone! What can you all be _doing_?"

 _This end of town._ Dom smiled. Maybe she knew . . . "I'm just vacationing late this year, myself," he said casually. "Think I met one of the others, last night, though. Said he was staying up the beach."

She laughed, surprisingly rich and full. He'd expected something like tinkly bells or rustling paper. "Then he had it backwards, lad," she told him, smiling. "Or _you_ do. Closest place up the beach from here is nearly ten miles."

Dom grinned. "Probably me," he admitted cheerfully. "No head for directions." But he _was_ sure Billy had said 'up'. Had he really walked down ten miles? But then why hadn't he accepted a ride back?

 

It took more time, more chatting, before she finally seemed to notice the sack he kept shifting from one side to the other, and let him go. In exchange for promising to have tea with her, as soon as he could, of course.

Dom tried to concentrate on laughing about her nosiness, and the suspicious expression on her face, when she'd mentioned _Hetty_ , on her bewilderment that anyone would want to stay here during the off season. On anything, in fact, about _her_. Or about the people he'd met in the village. Or his continued irritation with Lij.

He knew, of course, that he was trying to avoid thinking about Billy. Because once he started . . . he somehow doubted he'd be able to stop. And he wasn't here to be distracted by green eyes and an amazing smile. He was here . . .

Well, to be perfectly honest he didn't know why he was here. Aside from the reasons he told Billy the night before. The peace of the ocean, of this beach. The anonymity, too. Even the nosy neighbor only thought he _looked_ like Geoffrey Shawcross, she didn't assume he was. It was nice, very, to not have to worry about being recognized, or approached.

Thinking about that, and eating, got him through another hour. And then he couldn't stand it anymore.

So he left the house, slipping the flashlight into his jacket pocket again. He didn't intend to leave the beach until he absolutely had to, after all.

He tried to pretend, walking down the long, steep stairs, that he wasn't looking for Billy. Even as he tripped–would've stubbed his toes if he'd been barefoot–because he was watching the beach and not his feet, he tried to pretend.

Worthless, though, when he felt his face light up at the sight that awaited him. Billy, once again sitting on the sand, facing the shore. This was what he'd been waiting for, he realized, with a slight smile.

"Told you we'd see each other again," Billy greeted, as Dom reached him. "Frankly, I thought you'd be down here sooner."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's coming to dinner?

Dom laughed. "Hope I haven't kept you waiting long?"

"I could lie, and say you had, lad, but in truth?" Billy grinned. "Been here maybe ten minutes, myself."

Dom dropped easily to the sand, crossing his legs. "Good, then." And the feeling of comfort hadn't changed. Billy was a relative stranger, he knew, but . . . Dom could imagine telling him anything, pouring his heart out into those eyes. He didn't, but the feeling of comfort, and–admit it, Monaghan–attraction, had him wanting to.

"Now if I _had_ been waiting . . ." Billy continued, grinning, "what would've been keeping you?"

Dom shrugged, and told Billy what he'd done during the day, of his encounter with his neighbor. And, after a moment's hesitation, about Lij's phone call, though he didn't mention the specifics. Or Elijah's name. So far, it seemed that Billy either didn't know or was willing to ignore who he was, and Dom found he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible.

And, shortly and with little effort, they were talking. Again, Dom realized he was revealing more about himself than Billy was, though he didn't try to. But the other man was so easy to talk to. And again, he lost track of time, until the growling of his own stomach interrupted a story about his brother, a night of revenge, and a can of shaving cream.

Billy laughed, when Dom blushed and looked down at his own stomach in surprise. "What are you keeping in there, lad?"

"Not enough food, apparently," Dom replied, smiling a little.

"You'd better be getting some, then, hadn't you?"

"Um . . ." Dom was hungry, but didn't want this to end so soon.

"Aye?"

Dom rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Um. There's a lot of food up there."

Billy raised an eyebrow, and waited.

"Have you eaten?" Dom asked at last, deciding to hell with subtlety.

"Not since this morning," Billy replied. "Why?"

"Then we're both hungry. And I can cook pretty well. Want to come up for dinner?" Dom struggled to remain calm, remain casual. He didn't want to come off too desperate, after all.

The soft smile on Billy's face set Dom's mind, and his racing heart, at rest. "Aye, lad. Very much."

So he did. Dom sprang up from the sand, again grateful for the yoga that left him limber enough to sit cross-legged without his feet falling asleep. Something Billy hadn't managed to avoid, it seemed, as he swayed a bit when Dom helped him up. The brief touch of their hands again sent a shiver through him, and he started talking again to cover it, keeping up a running commentary as they walked up the steep stairs and into his rented house.

Dom's deprecating description of his own cooking was in no way justified, as he was quite a good cook, something Billy readily admitted he wasn't. He offered to help, an offer Dom mostly brushed aside, insisting that Billy was his guest. "Besides, it's hardly going to be difficult," he added with a grin. "I'll heat something up, more than likely."

And, seeing as how they were both already hungry, that's what he did. He popped two of the premade fisherman's pies he'd gotten from the baker that day into the oven, and happily settled down to chopping some vegetables to steam and have on the side. He looked up, to see Billy watching him with something close to fascination, and was surprised to find himself blushing. "I worked as a cook for a bit," he explained.

Billy shook himself a little, and smiled. "Sorry to stare, lad. You just make it look so easy."

"It's not _that_ hard," Dom countered, collecting the chopped vegetables, and attempting to find something to cook them in. He'd forgotten that a traditionally appointed Scottish kitchen wouldn't have a bamboo steamer in it. He compromised finally, making an arrangement of a couple pots, before setting a second timer. "I'm a terrible host. Can I get you something to drink?"

Billy hesitated a moment. "What've you got?"

"Guinness, Guinness and more Guinness," Dom replied with a grin. "Or, um, sparkling water. Or I could make some tea."

Billy laughed. "I think I'll have a Guinness, then."

Dom fetched beers for both of them, and settled on a stool next to Billy. "Cheers, mate."

 

Dinner was an unmitigated disaster, but it somehow didn't seem to matter. Despite the fact that the pies were the same, one was overcooked and the other barely. The vegetables were soggy on the outside, crunchy on the inside. Billy picked at his food for a bit, politely at least trying everything. Dom raised an eyebrow at his protests that it all tasted fine. Finally, when Billy found a blackened shrimp just as Dom's fork pulled up uncooked dough, they both got the giggles.

It was a long time, before either calmed enough to talk again. Each time they almost managed it, their eyes would meet and set the other off. Dom rose from the table, dumping the contents of both plates into the garbage. He made sandwiches for both of them, still giggling. "I _am_ a good cook, I _swear_ ," he kept saying, to Billy's snorted laughter.

"Aye, lad, and I believe you," Billy assured him, grinning widely. "Of sandwiches, especially."

Dom found he liked Billy's laughter, very much, and set about trying to make him giggle for the rest of the evening. It didn't prove hard, as their senses of humor related very well to each other. More beers were downed, taken with them to the living room. They sat on the floor next to the couch, backs against it. Dom had shed his cuffs at some point, and Billy was playing with one idly as they talked. The conversation had turned--not unpredictably--to Dom's previous cooking disasters.

"But the absolute worst," he said, draining the latest bottle, "was the first anniversary I had with this bloke. Planned it for weeks, done a practice run on the recipes, everything. And then, halfway through, oven broke. Just boom," he explained, with an expansive arm gesture. "No food. Still got shagged that night, though," he added thoughtfully.

Billy laughed, fingers still running over the sueded leather of Dom's cuff. "Seems you've got your priorities straight then," he observed.

"Less than _straight_ ," Dom countered, grinning. He stretched, setting the bottle down and looking out the window. "Moon's nearly full," he observed, thinking it appropriately romantic and all that shit.

"The moon's out?" Billy's head snapped up, and he groaned. "Fuck. I'm sorry, Dominic, I really am, but I've got to go. I'm late."

"Wha . . ." Dom turned, looking at the suddenly panicking Billy with incomprehension. "You've got to _go_?"

"Aye. Bollocks. Didn't mean to lose track of time." He smiled ruefully, standing quickly. "Sorry, really. It's a family thing." He held a hand out and Dom noticed distantly that he'd snapped the cuff on at some point. Billy seemed to notice at the same moment, because he reached for it.

"Nah," Dom interrupted, waving his hand dismissively before taking Billy's. "Keep it. Looks better on you, mate. I'll see you again? I'd offer a ride, but . . ."

"Too much Guinness," Billy agreed, squeezing Dom's fingers before letting go again. "And fuck, but I have to leave." And with that, he was gone.

Dom stood, hand still outstretched, looking at the half-open back door, trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. And the only thought that came to mind was what he'd said right before Billy had run. "First anniversary I had with this bloke," he murmured. "Still got shagged. Less than straight." He sank onto the couch, head in his hands. "Oh, _fuck_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth about Billy

Billy careened down the staircase, cursing the clumsy feet that tried to fly out from under him. Reaching the sand, he ran as fast as he could for the water, nearly falling again as he pulled his jumper over his head.

Looking up at the moon again, muttering under his breath, he paused only long enough to shed his jeans, as well, reaching into the secluded crack in the rocks for the plastic bag he kept there. He slipped his clothes into it, and shoved it back into its hiding place.

He hit the water at a dead run, going in as fast as he could before the change hit him. Warmth, spreading from his chest, making the unfamiliar chill of the water again feel right, feel as it should. The hated feet, legs, fused, lengthened, spread out into tail and fins. Moonlight flickered over the scales that returned to his forearms as he dove beneath the waves.

He let the air out of his rapidly changing lungs in a long rush of bubbles, taking a deep breath of water in its place. For just a moment, the merman closed his eyes and reveled in being back in his element, after the itchy dryness of the world above.

But the urgency that had driven him from Dominic's company in the first place returned, and he sliced down through the water, powerful tail propelling him quickly.

There was a feast, tonight. Of course, there was a feast nearly every night, for the Selkie liked to celebrate, to gather to eat and share songs and tales. Billy swam faster, knowing his absence would be noted. After all, his grandfather did preside over the feast.

If they'd been humans, Billy supposed, his grandfather would've been called a king. And Billy himself a prince. But no such titles existed, in the mer world. It was simply known that all looked to his grandfather for guidance. That his father would've assumed the place, if he'd lived, and that Billy would one day, far in the future, take the responsibility himself. He wasn't anxious for it to happen.

Not in the least because he'd have to give up his illicit trips to the surface. And he wanted to avoid that for as long as possible. Especially now that his ocean-eyed lad had returned.

Billy had been fifteen years old, as humans reckoned time, when it had happened. He'd been forced to look after his cousins, twins Liv and Orlando, eight years younger than he. And they'd been infuriating, fighting and teasing and refusing to behave, to give him a moment's peace . . .

He'd lost his temper, when Orlando tried for the fifth time to scare Live with tales of the surface, saying it was full of monsters, that no one who went up ever returned.

"No truth to that, lad," he'd snapped finally. "And I've a mind to take you both up there to prove it to you, too, if you don't stop bickering."

"You would not," Orlando'd retorted. "No one's allowed up there. People die up there."

Which was true enough. Billy's own parents had been killed near the surface, their bodies washing ashore to confuse the human police. Not the scientists, thankfully, as mer bodies on shore stuck to their legged form after death.

"Not everyone," Liv had insisted indignantly. "You're _wrong_ , Orli, admit it."

Billy had ended the fight that ensued by pulling them apart, and then up after him, toward the lighter regions of water above them. He'd wanted to see what his parents had always talked about, what his older sister had seen once and never stopped describing. Land. Real land, and mountains, and a beach, and humans.

So even when his two charges pulled away, frightened, Billy had gone on. Had followed the lure of the light, the warmer water, going closer and closer to the forbidden shore.

He was nearly there, following closely along the bottom, not quite daring enough yet to put his head above water, when he'd seen his first human.

It was a young boy, he'd decided, watching him move clumsily through the water. Probably the same age as Liv and Orli. Billy sank lower, hoping not to be seen.

Just as foolish as his cousins, too, Billy decided when the lad got himself caught in a current, and couldn't seem to break free.

Billy frowned, chewing his lip. The lad wasn't escaping, and Billy could tell he was tiring. There was a strict code of mer kind not to interfere, but . . . the lad was just a child. May have even escaped the watchful eye of his own keeper. Billy suddenly pictured Orli in the same predicament and was moving before he'd even formed a plan. He called out to the boy to relax, to stop fighting and he'd help. It was only after that he realized mer song was likely not something the lad understood.

Wide, frightened eyes met his, and Billy gasped. Grey, blue and green together. Ocean eyes.

So he'd rescued the lad, used the English his parents had taught him for the first time. Tasted air for the first time. Saw the beach, saw the surface.

He hadn't lingered as long as he'd wished, for Liv and Orlando had gathered their courage enough to follow him. But he'd seen the lad make it to the shore, seen him turn and search the waves.

His cousins never mentioned what they'd seen, and the knowledge that he'd broken custom--for their world had no real laws–had remained a bond of secrecy among them.

So now, twenty human years later . . .

Billy had recognized Dominic, that first day he'd come down to the beach. He couldn't have said why. It had been many years since he'd last seen the lad, and even then he'd been too far away to see his eyes, the only surety he had.

The merman had returned, the next day, to be sure. And when the lad climbed the rocks, walking so far out . . . Billy _had_ seen his eyes. This was his lad, his human. And the sorrow, the uncertainties in him were almost palpable.

So Billy had found his hidden stash of human clothing and gone ashore. Something he'd done often, mingling with and learning the ways of the humans. He'd told no one, not even his sister Margaret, though he was sure Liv and Orlando suspected, of these trips, these adventures.

Meeting Dominic that night though . . . That had been an accident. Billy had been sitting on a beach he privately thought of as his, playing with singing mer songs in human fashion. It was a habit he'd acquired, when he was on land and thinking deeply. As he was then, trying to decide if he should approach Dominic or not. And then . . . his ocean-eyed lad had heard, and approached _him_.

Billy'd known he was there, when he was still halfway up the stairs. Had seen, recognized him. And felt his heart beat sharply, becoming suddenly aware of every bit of his still unfamiliar body.

It had been hard, to keep from telling Dominic everything, that first night. Harder still, this evening, with the unfamiliar alcohol working in his blood, the laughter and ease of their talk. To keep from spilling his own secrets, telling his own stories. For the lure of the lad's eyes was still there, only grown stronger with time.

And then, when Dominic had mentioned the ‘bloke' he'd had an anniversary with . . . the lad was one of the few of his kind willing to look on his own sex with favor, then. It was one of the many things Billy had never quite understood about humans. How the majority of them could only fancy those different from them . . . The Selkie were freer, much, about the act of joining.

But if Dominic did join with men, then . . . wishes Billy hadn't even dared think of might be possible. True, the lad _was_ a human. But it didn't seem to matter, with him, the way it had with the rest. And his hand against Billy's, so dry and warm, had set his heart to pounding every time.

 

Billy shook his head and flipped his tail still faster, finally seeing the lights of the city ahead.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family Meal

He barely made it. Slipped into his place only moments before his grandfather.

Billy hoped his careful control of his breathing would hide just how close he'd cut things, but Liv's raised eyebrow told him it hadn't. Her eyes widened further, though, when he reached past her, and he felt a sudden, sharp tug on his wrist.

"What's this?" she hissed, beneath the noise and chatter all around them.

Billy stared blankly at the leather cuff in her hand, feeling his face flush. "Later," he replied shortly, holding his hand out for it.

"Then you can have it back later," she teased, slipping the cuff into a pouch at her waist. "I can't wait to find out how you acquired it."

Their voices were soft hisses under the conversations going on around them, and Billy was constrained by the presence of the others. So he didn't tell the lass what he thought of her idea, merely gritted his teeth and nodded. "Fine."

And he wasted no time, when the feast ended, in finding her. Even her twin's presence didn't dissuade him, for Orlando was still rarely elsewhere. Unless off on one of his dalliances, of course.

Billy swam over to them, managing as stern a look as he could. "Give it back."

So much for stern. He sounded like a petulant child.

Apparently Live noticed the tone, as well. She raised one delicately arched eyebrow, pushing the dark cloud of her hair behind her.

Billy fought the urge to flush, wondering just when his baby cousin had turned into such a temptress. "Liv . . ." He let a note of warning creep into his voice.

She laughed. "Fine, Billy. If it means that much to you." She pulled the cuff out of her pouch, idly working the snaps as she examined it. "What _is_ it, anyway?"

Billy sighed, knowing from long experience that he'd tire of this game before she would, and gave in. "S'called a cuff," he answered, groaning inwardly when Orli bent over the thing as well.

"Why?" Orli asked, brow furrowing.

Billy almost smiled, despite his annoyance. He'd heard Orli ask that question hundreds of times, growing up. And had always tried to answer it, too. But now . . . "Because that's what human's call the end of their shirts, and that's where you wear it."

Liv dropped the leather as if it had stung her. "It belongs to a _human_?"

Billy rescued the cuff as it drifted down through the water. "No. It belongs to me."

"Where'd you get it?" Orli asked, with a kind of morbid fascination.

"You went back up," Liv accused, always slighter faster on the uptake than her brother.

"And if I did?"

"So who gave it to you?" Orli asked, grinning widely. "That split-tail you saved?" He whooped, when Billy flushed deeply. "It _was_! Billy's got a crush on a split-tail!"

Liv wrinkled her nose. "That's disgusting. And don't use that word, Orli."

Billy bristled. "And why is it disgusting? Not that I'm admitting I do, but . . ."

"Because," Liv said firmly. "He's a _human_ , Billy. He's got _legs_. How would you even . . ." She blushed. "Never mind."

Orlando laughed at his sister's obvious discomfort. "I know," he said smugly.

"You do?" Billy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmhmm," Orli replied. "It's all," he gestured vaguely, "between."

Liv looked seriously confused. "But how . . . Never mind," she said again hastily. "Billy, be careful at least, if you won't give it up. You don't want Grandfather finding out."

"True enough," Billy replied, snapping the cuff around his wrist again, fingers caressing the leather. Dom had been wearing this, just hours ago. "You'll keep quiet?"

Liv sighed, but kissed his cheek and smiled. "Don't we always?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom freaks out. Quietly, but still.

Dom didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, head in his hands, mind whirling. All of a sudden, the stillness was too much, and he was up, pacing the room, back and forth, back and forth. So Billy had run when he'd admitted he was gay. So what? The two things might not be related. Maybe he really did have family things.

"Yeah," Dom muttered morosely. "Right. Family things at ten p.m.. Who am I kidding?"

He paced and ranted to himself, and flopped down on the sofa, and rose to do it all again. He wanted to call Lij, to complain, call Sean to get advice, but at the same time wanted to prove he could keep his life in order without falling back on them, as he had so often in the past few years. But, four hours and several Guinness later, calling his American friends didn't seem so bad.

He tried Lij first, not sure if he was ready to face Sean's logic. For Sean _would_ be logical, and assured, would explain each and every one of his worries away, and leave Dom feeling more a mess than when he'd started. Damn the man, anyway, for _always_ bringing a cool head into this kind of thing.

But, as it turned out, Dom had little choice. He got Lij's voicemail, and was too preoccupied to work out the time change, to think what time it might be in whatever part of the country Lij was currently inhabiting. Sean would know, anyway. Sean always knew.

And so it was Sean he called, pressing and holding the small button on his mobile that dialed his number.

"Hello?" Even his voice sounded collected, and Dom groaned inwardly.

"Astin?"

"Dom! What's going on? You haven't called me for days, and Lij . . ."

"Wants to know where I am. I've heard, mate."

Sean chuckled. "I'm sure you have. Well, if that's not why you're calling . . ."

Dom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think I've met someone. But it's complicated."

"Not sure he likes you complicated, or has a wife and ten children and planning a lawsuit over sexual harassment complicated?" Sean asked. And, unfortunately, Dom knew he wasn't actually joking.

"More along the not sure he likes me line," he replied, taking another swig off the Guinness bottle in his hand. Maybe calling Astin hadn't been the best idea in the world.

"How could he not?"

"Don't know if he's gay," Dom admitted, feeling himself blush. "And, um, he may've freaked when I admitted I was. I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" Dom could _hear_ Sean raising an eyebrow.

So he explained. Everything. The meeting on the beach, the disastrous dinner that had turned out all right, the conversation that had flowed so easily, until Dom had mentioned an ex-boyfriend. And then Billy's sudden hurry to leave, the way he'd hit the door practically at a run. "Family stuff, man. _Family_ stuff. After ten!"

Six thousand miles away, Sean shook his head and prayed for patience. "Dom, he probably did. I hate to tell you this, but it's not exactly difficult to tell which way you swing when you see someone you're interested in. If he'd been put off, it would've been long before you actually said anything. I think you should give him the benefit of the doubt, at least."

"Oh." Dom was quiet for a few moments. "You really think he knew already? And that he didn't mind?"

" _Yes_ ," Sean replied firmly. He shook his head once more, forcefully reminded of just why Dominic Monaghan never seemed to have lasting relationships with anyone but his friends. "I think he honestly had somewhere to be, probably with his family. And that you shouldn't let this put you off." And that you should stop acting like an ass, he added silently.

Dom got the message, anyway.

 

So, that afternoon, after finally getting some sleep, and recovering from the alarming amount of beer he'd managed to consume the night before, Dom again returned to the beach. And, again, Billy was waiting for him.

Dom paused on the stairs, as he first caught a glimpse of the other man. Billy sat, as seemed his custom, at the base of the cliff, by a tumbled stand of stone. And, as usual, sat with his back to the ocean, his eyes to the shore. It seemed backwards to Dom, to ignore the silvery expanse of water, but . . .

He shook his head, starting down again, toward the huddled figure. He seemed very small, in a too big fisherman's sweater. And yet . . . Dom could feel his presence, even from this distance. And knew the moment Billy noticed him, when their eyes locked across the sand. He felt a smile curving his lips, saw an answering one crease the corners of Billy's eyes. Okay. Maybe Sean had a point, then.

One he was willing to concede, if it meant Billy's face would really light up like that, every time they saw each other. Dom would much rather be fucked than right, after all.

He made his way down the rest of the stairs, joining Billy. "Hey."

"Hey." Billy's smile widened, as Dom dropped to the sand beside him again. "I'm sorry, again, for running off on you like that, lad."

Dom very firmly pushed down the blush that threatened. Billy didn't need to know he'd agonized over it, after all. "It's cool. It's hard to get out of things, with family, I know."

Billy grinned. "Especially mine," he agreed. "But I'm yours, until this evening, at the least. I'll have to disappear again." He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Believe me, I'd rather I was with you, but they'll not be letting me out of it. Soon, though, aye?"

Soon. The disappointment at learning Billy'd be running off again was more than assuaged by knowing he wanted to spend more time with Dom. Much more. "Soon," Dom echoed, a wide smile spreading across his face. Soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Billy keep running?

The pattern didn't break for days. Billy left every night and never accepted a ride. Dom offered, of course, but Billy refused every time.

Dom thought he should probably care. Should probably want to dig deeper, find out what was going on, where Billy went, how he got there, all of it. But he found he didn't. Billy was with him, every afternoon, every evening, and that was enough.

Being with him. It was enough. Hearing him laugh, _making_ him laugh. Talking. Goofing off, for they did plenty of that. Playing video games, even, which Billy did while laughing at himself. He claimed he was an expert, he just hadn't shown it yet. And Dom laughed, agreed, and destroyed him once again. Going out to dinner in the village, which they also did more than once, Dom not trusting his own cooking after the last time.

It was dating and yet it wasn't. Dom realized one morning, as he again watched the sun rise in the garden, that he'd spent every evening since he arrived with the Scot, and nearly every other moment thinking of him. His worries, his reasons for coming here . . . they were still there, but seemed muted. Muted, against the more important actions of living, of teasing Billy until his eyes crinkled up at the edges and his laugh lines deepened.

It couldn't last, of course, no matter how much Dom wanted it to.

He'd realized he was falling heavily in lust, if not yet in love, by the fourth day. They were sitting in the garden, looking out over the ocean, each with a beer. Billy was talking, relating a local legend of some kind, but Dom had lost track the point of the story in the sound of Billy's voice. It wove in and out, creating a tapestry of sound that made him shiver.

But it wasn't just the Scottish tones, craggy and soft as the Highlands. Billy's fingers were wrapped loosely around the neck of the beer bottle, sliding absently over the slick surface. Dom watched them move, up and down, gathering the moisture and spreading it out again. He licked his lips absently, not coming back to himself until Billy looked over and raised an eyebrow. "Dommie? Have y'heard a word I've been saying?"

Dom blushed. "Um . . ."

Billy laughed aloud, and somehow it was all right. But from that moment, Dom found it happening time and again. He'd lose track, watching Billy. His eyes, his mouth. The small space, between his nose and his top lip endlessly fascinated him, and Dom more than once found himself fantasizing about pressing his lips against it, before moving lower and taking Billy's mouth with his own, exploring his mouth, pressing against him with tongue and teeth and need and . . .

And then he'd shake himself, hoping he wasn't too far off track from where they'd been, hoping he hadn't shown it. He had no reason to think Billy felt the same. He'd tried to read his body language, God how he'd tried, but it seemed off somehow, and he was left confused again. So he stayed cautious, willing to enjoy what he had. For now.

For now didn't last as long as it should have, though.

 

A week and half or so after Dom had first arrived found them again attempting to eat dinner in his house. He'd done more shopping, checked to make sure he had all the required cookware, and prepared as much as possible before meeting Billy on the beach.

And this time, all went well. The meal was excellent, the wine that went with it just rich enough. Conversation flowed easily between them, for many hours. And, whether it was the wine, the whiskey Dom pulled out afterward, the company, or mere forgetfulness, Billy didn't leave. And neither noticed.

"So Lij and I were really, really pissed, right?" Dom was saying, buzzed enough to tell this story. Lij would tell it dead sober, but then . . . Lij was like that. "And there was this huge fountain . . ."

Billy was giggling helplessly, by the time Dom finished the story. "You actually?"

"We did," Dom replied, with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. "And got in such trouble, too," he added, grinning. That was, he decided, one of the things he loved about Billy. A grown man, older than Dom by a good bit, and he unashamedly giggled at things.

"Oh Dommie . . ." Billy was struggling to get hold of himself and only partly succeeding.

"I know!" Dom smiled ruefully at him. They were each sprawled at one end of the sofa, legs rather comfortably intertwined in the middle. "I'd plead being young and stupid and drunk, but . . . Wait!" he said, sitting up slightly. "That works. I was young and stupid and drunk."

"You certainly were," Billy agreed, finally recovering from his laughter. "Though in keeping with your story, I'm for the loo." He started to extract himself from their tangle, but managed to trip himself in standing, landing atop Dom with a small thump.

Dom looked up, into green eyes that were startlingly close, those lips so near his, feeling the weight of Billy's body pinning him to the sofa. His mind was screaming at him to do something, say something, anything. But he couldn't. And it seemed Billy couldn't, either.

For a long moment, they just stayed there. And then the part of Dom he'd been trying to push down took over, and moved that last inch to kiss the man above him, pressing their lips together.

And, at first, it seemed to be all right. Billy even kissed back, pressing Dom further into the cushions, a strangled noise escaping him. But then he pulled away, eyes suddenly wide and . . . almost frightened. "I . . . Jesus, Dom, it's late, and . . . Fuck. I have to go."

And he did. Once again ran from the room, leaving Dom where he was, stunned on the couch, lips still burning from Billy's touch. He lay there for what seemed ages. "He had to go," he murmured, half in a daze. "He always has to go. It doesn't mean . . ." Fuck. Fuck it all. Of _course_ it did. Even if he'd seemed to enjoy it, to return it, it must've . . . fuck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apart, yet thinking of each other

Billy didn't make it back soon enough, this time. Not only had the feast started, it was over. He floated uncertain, looking at the darkened clearing for long moments, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. And almost unable to care, remembering Dom's lips on his, the sudden hardness pressing up against his belly . . . He should've stayed.

Should've stayed, and . . . and made love to the lad. Taken him, been taken, learned every trick of the human's body. But he hadn't. He'd run again. And now . . .

"William."

The voice was low, even, and incredibly stern. His grandfather. Billy turned to face him, swallowing hard. "Aye?"

"You missed the feast. You've been late, three times this moon. And you disappear, for hours at a time." The statements were simple truths, no accusation behind them, yet . . . he knew it was there.

"Aye," Billy replied again, softer.

His grandfather opened his mouth, then paused and sighed. "William . . . I will not look for you, here, in the coming days. But always remember. Pleasures of the flesh are one thing, falling in love quite another. You have your duty, to your family, to our people. Dally as you will, for now, but it cannot last. And whoever this mer is, she _must_ know this."

Billy nodded, lowering his eyes. "I . . . she will know," he replied, wondering why his heart hadn't lightened. He could go to Dom now, stay with him. Stay, finally, and tell him . . . tell him . . . tell him what, exactly?

His grandfather squeezed his arm briefly, and nodded himself. "Good lad." And with a few strokes of his tail, he was gone and Billy was alone.

Alone, but not at peace. Rarely had he lied to his grandfather, apart from keeping secret his trips to the surface. And now he had broken the old mer's trust, though he did not know it. If he saw Dom again . . . But of _course_ he would see Dom again. He had to.

Ignoring the lights of his home, Billy cut back through the water, back to the shore, back towards his lad. He stopped, someway away, sinking to the bottom of a small grotto. Moonlight still managed to filter through, but that was all. He relaxed in the water, flipping his tail now and then to keep himself in place, and thought. Thought hard, of the lad, of his grandfather's words. Of his own feelings, which ran deeper than he'd thought. And of that kiss.

Mostly, if he was honest with himself, of the kiss. Of Dom's lips, the hint of his tongue. Of the pressure of his cock, suddenly hard and insistent and there. Of his hands, those strong hands with their long, expressive fingers, wrapping around Billy's upper arms, pulling him closer . . .

Billy couldn't help but imagine those hands now, their sensual gestures, the long curves of those fingers. Imagine them, and imagine what it would be like, to be touched by them. Touched everywhere, feel Dom stroking his chest, down, perhaps . . . yes perhaps even his tail, the sensitive spot where scales met and melded with skin.

As Billy thought, his own hand followed, skimming down his chest, playing for a moment or two with his nipples, pinching, pulling. But soon, his hand went lower, lower, past the muscles of his abdomen, to close around his hardening cock. Soft, it lay close against his tail, barely distinguishable in a soft ridge of scales beneath his hip bones. But hard, it stood out proud and obvious. And now his hand closed around it as it hardened, a soft sigh of mer song escaping his lips.

With one hand, Billy steadied himself against the rock, keeping hold of it, as the other caressed his own skin. He thought of Dom, and those deep, ocean blue eyes. Of those long fingers, hard chest, thin frame, filled with surprising strength. Of how he'd felt, warm and hard and pressed against him. Of his lips, his tongue. Of what Billy wanted him to do with that tongue.

His thoughts grew fragmented as his hand moved, as he tugged and stroked his own flesh, twisting his wrist. His hips thrust forward, his tail moved restlessly, and his voice sang out again, higher in the still blue green world around him.

Finally, finally he spilled his release over his own fingers, Dom's name on his lips. And yet . . . he was no closer to a decision. Lust after the lad he might, and did, but risk everything for him . . .

 

 

Dom stood with his head bowed, letting the nearly scalding water cascade down his back. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. What was Billy playing at? And why didn't he, Dom, care? He should. He should be outraged, be ready to beat the man, scream, or at least demand an explanation. But . . .

The rational part of his mind, which sounded disturbingly like Sean, was telling him to forget the other man. It wasn't worth this. And if he cared at all, he wouldn't have run. Not after . . .

Fuck!

But Billy had looked scared, stricken. Not horrified, just . . . Damn. And he'd stayed later than he ever had before, too. If he _did_ have some family obligation thing every night, then no wonder. But to kiss him and then just run . . .

Dom slammed his hand into the shower wall again, even knowing all he'd get was bruised knuckles. He sighed, trying to relax, to not think about it. Not think about green eyes, so deep and compelling, or that auburn brown hair, streaked light in places by the sun, or those lips, those small yet powerful hands, the compact body that held so much strength . . .

Bollocks. He was doing it again.

Had been doing it, every day, every night, for the past week. He wanted Billy, wanted him badly. Wanted to be beneath him, feel the Scot's cock inside him, feel him pounding into him, taking him, claiming him . . . yes, he wanted that.

A choked moan escaped his lips, as his hand closed around his cock, more than hardened by his thoughts. Slick with water and shampoo suds, still, he slid along his own length, pretending it was Billy's hand, Billy's voice in his ear. Remembering the feel of him, so warm and solid and demanding, as he'd pushed Dom deeply into the couch.

A stuttered gasp was next, and his hips moved under his own touch. Water spilled across his back, his chest, over his now clenching muscles as his hand moved faster. Moved, stroking and teasing, and then hard and strong, while picturing Billy above him, that wicked grin he'd seen now and again as they joked, those eyes so deep and green, but filled with command, with strength . . . Billy above him, claiming him, taking him, touching him and making Dom his always, always with his touch, his want, his need, his . . .

And it wasn't long before he spilled his release, washed quickly away and down the drain. And Billy's name was on _his_ lips. But his decision was made, his risk taken. And he could only wait, for the other's.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy comes to a decision. And, um, la la la. ;)

_Pleasures of the flesh are one thing . . ._ Billy shook his head, forcing his grandfather's voice out of his mind. He inched up the shore of the deserted beach, keeping an eye out for Dom. It wouldn't do, for him to come down before Billy'd had a chance to dry off, after all.

But, through dumb luck or something else, he didn't. Billy sighed, a soft, musical sound full of not-quite-pain, as his tail shortened, split, shrank down into the legs that still felt odd, no matter how many times he changed. He dressed, fetching his clothes from that hidden place in the rocks. But, for once, he didn't take his accustomed seat near the rocks at the bottom of the stairs. Instead, he retreated behind them, wanting to watch Dom when he arrived.

After all, he was now risking everything for this human. His position, his family's trust, everything. His fingers slid over the damp leather of the cuff Dom had given him, now irrevocably stained by saltwater, and he smiled slightly. It was worth it.

But was it worth it for Dom? It had been three days, after all. Three days, since Billy'd run. Three days, since they'd seen each other. Dom might not come. He might've decided Billy wasn't worth it. Might've decided not to put up with him. Might've decided . . . so many things.

But then, Billy'd come to a decision of his own. And he would wait, and see.

It was nearing sunset, when Dom finally appeared. He descended the stairs with a heavy tread, and Billy heard him long before he saw him. When he did come into view, he looked defeated, shoulders slumped. He sank to the sand, in the place he and Billy had sat every night in those two weeks, and stared blankly out to the ocean.

Billy bit his lip, and took a deep breath. Now, or never. Go, and tell the lad how he felt, and stay the night. His grandfather thought it was another mer who had captured his fancy, after all. His absence would be noted, but not remarked on. So he pulled himself up, bracing a hand against the rocks as an anchor against that first dizzy moment that always came with standing, and started down the beach. "Hullo, Dom."

Dom turned, and his face lit up, wide grin illuminated by the dying sun. "Billy! I thought . . ." He blushed. "I thought you wouldn't come back. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kiss you, not without asking and making sure you wanted to, and I shouldn't've made that kind of assumption and . . ."

Billy cut off the flood of words with a kiss, full of the purpose the other had lacked. Slow, explorative at first, but gradually deepening as Dom got over his shock and became an active part of it. When Billy finally pulled away, marveling anew at the difference of kissing, breathing through a kiss, when surrounded by air and not water, Dom merely stared for a moment, blinking.

"Oh," he said softly.

"You were saying?" Billy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Some kind of apology for assuming I was gay, I believe?" He kissed Dom again, nipping lightly at his bottom lip when he pulled away the second time. "Maybe you should, at that. I am bi, after all."

Dom laughed, a smile spreading across his face. He licked his lips in what Billy was sure was an unconscious gesture. "Does this mean what I think it does?"

"Means I'd like to take you to bed, lad," Billy replied, smiling. "If you're willing."

"If I'm willing?" Dom repeated. " _If_ I'm willing? Are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"

"Do y'have one made up, then?" Billy asked with a grin, feeling relief flood through him. Dom was willing to forgive, then. Willing to overlook his absence, his actions.

"Give me five minutes," Dom replied, but stepped forward and again took Billy's mouth, pressing close as the Scot's arms again came round him.

"I could live with informality," Billy managed, when finally they broke apart. "You've a bed, lad?"

"Aye," Dom replied, in a close imitation of Billy's accent. "I have."

"Then why are we still standing here?" Billy asked, kissing Dom again, nipping his way across his throat. "And not in it?"

"Couldn't tell you, mate," Dom replied, head falling back.

Billy laughed, and pulled away. "Up the stairs, lad. Before I take you on the sand."

And somehow, it was accomplished, though neither was quite sure how. Billy's feet seemed even clumsier than usual, as he fought his way up the stairs, half in Dom's embrace the entire time. But it didn't matter, because Dom's feet were just as clumsy. They almost killed each other multiple times, but wet, warm mouths pressed so urgently against each other made up for the bruises and knocks. And, finally--after Dom dropped his keys four times only to remember the door was unlocked--they were inside and struggling down the hallway to the bedroom.

Somehow, Billy's sweater was gone and Dom's sweatshirt followed. They fell to the bed, tangled together, Dom kicking off his shoes, Billy desperately grateful he wasn't wearing any. After a few moments' rolling struggle, Billy ended up on top, straddling Dom's thighs and kissing him for all he was worth, working the thin t-shirt he wore up and over his head. "Christ, Dommie . . ." he managed, when their lips had to part to let the fabric past.

Dom merely moaned in answer, hands dipping beneath the back of Billy's jeans, cupping his ass. He squeezed, and pressed his hips up, grinding against him through the layers of denim.

Billy growled, the sensations cutting through him even deeper than normal, for being unfamiliar. He pressed back down, rolling his hips, and all but attacking Dom's throat, suckling, nibbling, marking him. He bit down, at his pulse point, and heard the Brit cry out beneath him. Dom bucked, rolled, and was on top suddenly, his lips and hands everywhere, burning a brand across Billy's skin, dry and warm and nothing, _nothing_ like the cool wetness of the ocean.

Dom kissed him, hungrily, and worked his jeans off at the same time. Billy's cock sprang free, and Dom's hand closed around it, causing him to cry out again. "Dommie . . ."

"Want you, Billy. Wanted you for weeks, now. Want you in me." Dom's words were harsh, broken, filled with longing.

Billy groaned, trying to concentrate against the sensations, a mixture of new and familiar. But Dom's words were clear enough, and soon Billy'd flipped him to his back again, and was working _his_ jeans off. Dom's cock bobbed up, erect, straining and proud, and Billy's mouth engulfed it, taking it as deeply as he could with the first stroke. It was different, aye, so different, doing this out of the water, with legs folded beneath him, but . . . some things were the same, no matter where, or who, you were.

Dom's cries egged him on, and Billy worked for some time, only pulling away when he knew Dom was close. Because it wasn't going to end like this. Dom voiced a wordless protest, and Billy was suddenly straddling his waist, holding his wrists above his head and pushing them into the pillows. "No, lad," he said firmly. "No, you come when I want you to, when I'm in you, and not before. Aye?"

Dom struggled, pushed up against him, but Billy's arms were more than equal to the task, and held firm. Finally, the younger man nodded, eyes lowering. "Aye," he agreed, a secret grin playing about his lips. "Lube's in the bedside table," he murmured, thinking distantly that this was turning out even better than he'd hoped.

Billy grinned, taking his mouth again, plundering it with his tongue, forceful and hard, teeth used nearly as much as lips, before pulling away and fetching the lube Dom'd spoken of, glad he'd learned of this, too, in his trips ashore.

It was the work of moments to slick his fingers, to press one against Dom's entrance. And Dom pressed back, grinding down, for all the world looking as if he could pull Billy into him through pure force of will. So Billy himself took a perverse pleasure in moving slowly, now, working just the tip of his finger in, before pulling it back again, grinning wickedly.

"Fuck . . ." Dom groaned, glaring at him. "Just _do_ it, will you?"

"All in good time, lad," Billy replied, though he knew he wouldn't last much longer, himself. He wanted the lad, wanted him badly, and his cock was aching. So he slipped his finger in, following it quickly with a second, hooking them both. And was rewarded, as Dom bucked and cried out, grinding down again.

A third finger, and then, out of curiosity more than anything else, a fourth, and Dom was all but keening. "Bills . . ."

Billy relented, pulling his fingers out and slicking himself. He moved into position, pressed his cock against Dom's entrance. "Look at me, Dominic," he murmured, voice hard, and, as Dom's stormy eyes met his, sank in to the hilt.

Dom did keen, then, all but writhing under him, And Billy supported himself on his arms, pulled back, and thrust strongly into him, forcing himself to concentrate against the white-hot heat of Dom's body, the burning of his own arousal, the pure and utter _sensation_ of it all. Dom's legs locked around his hips, and he drove forward again, pounding into the lad, who only urged him on, demanding harder, faster, more.

And he got it.

The pace couldn't last long, not as worked up as they'd both been, so it wasn't long after Billy's hand closed around Dom's cock, stroking in rhythm with his hips, that Dom cried out, and came, his muscles clenching all around Billy. And that proved much too much for the Scot. He drove home once, twice, and then keened himself, mer song slipping unheeded from his lips, as his release washed over him, and into the lad beneath him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom makes a discovery.

Time passed. Possibly a lot of it, Dom wasn't sure. He didn't need to be, knowing only that Billy lay against him, heavy and warm and sated. They were growing sticky; he didn't care. He'd be painfully sore in the morning; he didn't care. Billy had come back. Come back, and fulfilled Dom's desires in a way he honestly hadn't expected.

Something nagged at the edge of his mind, but he let it stay there, wanting nothing to intrude on this moment, nothing to distract him from the heavy limbed lethargy of loving. So it was much, much later, before either of them spoke.

"Well, Dommie," Billy murmured, voice rough, "where's my invitation?"

Dom chuckled softly, stretching a little as Billy moved. They both winced, slightly, when he pulled out and collapsed beside Dom on the bed. "Still need one?" he asked.

"Said it was engraved," Billy replied muzzily. "Sounds nice."

"I'll get if for you when I can move my legs again," Dom replied, turning a little to look over at the other man. "Sometime next week, at this rate."

"Won't move 'fore then, myself," Billy agreed. He smiled over at Dom, green eyes merry. "Well, lad."

"Well," Dom agreed, smiling and stretching further. Yes, he was going to be _very_ sore. "Suppose we've got an hour or two, before you have to leave."

A slight flush stained Billy's cheeks. "I'd rather stay, lad, if you'll have me."

Dom started, sitting up slightly. "You can?"

"Aye," Billy replied, smiling. "I can."

So he did. They talked, for some time, Billy eventually gaining the strength to grab a wash cloth to clean them both up a bit. And then they lay in bed, talking, exploring a bit, though it led nowhere except to each other's arms. Sleep came, eventually, and took them both.

 

And it was in sleep that Dom's half-formed thought was given full attention. The sound Billy'd made, as he came, the sound Dom had almost missed, lost in the haze of his own climax . . . that sound echoed through his dreams, that night. Dreams, again, of nearly drowning, of being rescued, of a pair of brilliant green eyes and a merman that sang to him beneath the waves.

Dom woke first the next morning, and studied the man beside him, the face of his merman very much in his mind. And yes . . . it could be. He shook his head, at the ridiculousness of the thought, but . . . The song was the same. Had been, the night he'd first walked on the beach, as well. And little things . . . small ignorances Billy'd had, names, songs he hadn't recognized, when they'd been out together, even the fact that he had no clue who Dom himself was . . .

It had been refreshing, at first, to have Billy seem to ignore that Dom was well known. And then, gradually, Dom had realized Billy simply hadn't heard of him. Not that he was a household name, exactly, but . . . he'd grown used to being recognized, to mentioning the movies he'd been in and seeing a flash of recognition, at least. From Billy, there'd been none.

He has trouble walking, too, another part of his mind pointed out, as he propped himself on his elbow, the better to study Billy. Nearly always swaying, when he stood, his gait more than a bit uneven at the best of times. Dom'd never mentioned it, it certainly didn't detract from wanting him. And . . . always by the ocean, always watching the shore, the thick accent that wasn't, quite, the Glaswegian he knew . . .

"Christ . . ." he murmured, a sense of surreal certainty stealing over him. "I shagged a merman."

Billy stirred, then, eyes opening. His brow furrowed, and he rubbed at them, but smiled when he saw Dom watching him. "Mornin', lad."

"Good morning," Dom replied, seriously distracted by the sight of Billy waking up. And finding it hard to care if the Scot had once had a tail. "Sleep well?" he asked, moving a little closer and reaching out, tracing invisible patterns on Billy's chest. Sparse hair there, he noticed. And . . . none on his face. Dom's stubble rubbed against his own palm, where his cheek rested against it, but Billy's face was still smooth.

Billy stretched, slipping his hands behind his head, and watching Dom with half-lidded eyes. "Aye, very."

"You're him, aren't you?" Dom asked suddenly, fingers stilling in their path across Billy's chest. "I'd been half-convinced it was a dream, or a fantasy, but . . . you're him."

"I'm no sure what you mean, lad," Billy replied, sleepiness suddenly vanishing in an instant of near panic, as he felt a damning flush rising in his skin. "I'm who?"

"My merman," Dom replied, seeing the blush and knowing he was right. "You saved me."

"I'm no merman right now," Billy managed, telling himself it was the truth, after all. He wasn't, not now.

Dom shrugged. "And I don't know how you've managed it, but . . . I've been dreaming about it for twenty years, Bills. And remembering your eyes. Just realized why I recognized them." His fingers started their gentle exploration of Billy's skin again. "I never got the chance to thank you, you know. You disappeared then, too."

"I didn't want your mum after my hide," Billy replied, giving in. Dom remembered, knew, and seemed to be handling it well. So Billy would attempt to do the same.

"She wanted to thank you, too," Dom said mildly. "Well, at least, I think she would've, if she'd actually believed you existed."

Billy laughed. "Am I to take it she didn't?"

"No," Dom agreed cheerfully, his fingers making swirling patterns around Billy's navel, ducking beneath the sheet and causing small waves to radiate out across the linen. "I got in quite a bit of trouble for lying, as well as nearly drowning myself."

"You weren't lying," Billy said softly.

"I wasn't," Dom agreed. "Bills . . . how is it you aren't, now, then? Because you were." The last was said stubbornly, as if daring him to deny it.

"I was," Billy assured him. "Would be, if I was in water, now." He made a face. "Why do you think I'm such bollocks at walking straight?"

"Prefer you crooked," Dom teased, kissing him. "So this means asking to take a shower together this morning is out?" The whole situation was terrifically surreal, but Dom couldn't find it in himself to care.

"I wouldn't be standing upright for verra long, if we did," Billy replied, smiling at Dom's kiss. How the lad was all right with this, he wasn't sure, but . . . wasn't about to argue, either.

"I have a bathtub. A fairly big one," Dom pointed out reasonably.

Billy raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just saying," Dom said, grinning. "You'd have room, after . . . um, after you weren't standing up anymore."

Billy sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. "Are you sure, lad? Because I've no objection, if you are. But . . . it could be a wee bit startling, you ken?"

Dom nodded, leaning over to kiss him again, long and lingering. "I'm sure. I want to see you . . . like that."

Billy nodded, before kissing Dom, taking control, moving to press him back against the pillows. "Then you will, lad. Then you will."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a merman in my shower!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another alternative universe. This part is dedicated to [](http://vensre.livejournal.com/profile)[**vensre**](http://vensre.livejournal.com/). She knows why. Oh, and if anyone knows of a good picture/painting of a mer _man_ . . . Send it my way?

Dom led Billy to the bathroom, to the huge, claw-footed tub with it's obviously hastily added shower. A part of him wondered what on earth he was doing. But the rest of him knew, and was more than excited about it. A merman. In his bathtub. Yes, life was definitely more surreal here than in LA.

Better, too, though, Dom decided, as Billy stretched, lean muscle pulling over bone, his naked body on display. Much better.

"Well, lad?" Billy asked, turning to him with that smile.

"You're sure?" Dom asked, feeling a wide grin spread across his face when Billy nodded.

"Just . . . don't watch, aye?" Billy asked, as Dom climbed into the tub and held out his hand.

Dom grinned. "Promise. C'mere." And then his arms were again full of Billy, and their lips, then tongues met in a long, drawn out kiss. "Mmm," Dom sighed, kissing him one last time. "Ready?"

Billy nodded, standing back as Dom played with the faucet a bit, getting the temperature right, an act that made Billy grin to himself. He knew humans preferred warmer water, so he wasn't about to tell Dom not to bother on his account, but . . .

Then Dom switched the water to the shower head, and again took Billy into his arms. "Be holding me up in bit, Dommie," Billy said with a smile.

Dom grinned. "Don't mind," he assured Billy, and turned them both around, so the water was cascading down Billy's back. They kissed, again, Dom's eyes falling closed, losing himself in the kiss, the slick heat of Billy's tongue. His arms tightened, as Billy's weight seemed to increase, as his feet . . . well, not only went out from under him, but disappeared, Dom supposed. He wasn't going to look until he was told he could, but it was hard to ignore the sensations, as Billy's legs turned from warm, slightly hairy flesh to slick, smooth scales. Holy fucking Christ. It was real, then.

Billy broke the kiss, finally, breathing hard. "You can open your eyes," he managed, his arms tight around Dom's neck. "And let me down, as well," he added, smiling a little. He must've put on quite a few pounds in the last few moments, after all, his tail being much longer, and in many ways more solid, than the legs.

Dom did both, slowly, not sure what he was going to see. It'd been twenty years, after all, and he'd been panicking the last time he'd seen him like this . . .

He didn't quite look, until Billy was lying in the tub. He'd stretched out, arms over the back of it, the silver scales across his forearms shining a bit in the light, the spray from the shower. Dom swallowed, and looked Billy in the eye. Scales across his cheeks, too, Dom noted. Sprinkled almost like freckles, but not quite. His eyes were the same green, though there were streaks in his hair that nearly matched them. Hair that was now slightly parted on the side by the points of his ears.

And then there was the tail. Curled partway around Dom's feet, and stretched over the other end of the tub. He crouched, running a hand over the silvery green sheen of scales, following the line of a spine that didn't end. Slick, and something like a fish, but warmer than that. He looked up again, into Billy's eyes. This _was_ the man who'd made love to him the night before, but . . . also the mythical creature who'd rescued him, so long ago.

Billy smiled, though inside he was something of a mess. Dom guessing, wanting to see this . . . he should've planned better for it, he decided ruefully. "Seems you've caught a hell of a fish, lad," he observed. "Planning on eating him?"

That surprised a laugh out of Dom, and he leaned down, kissing Billy again. So he looked different. He was the same man Dom was falling in love with. He almost froze, when he ran _that_ thought back through his head. But . . . well, it was true.

Billies kissed him back, tail twining around his legs almost without thought. He felt Dom jump, a little, when he brushed his fins up over his lover's ass. "It's a bit flexible," he explained, at the surprised look Dom gave him.

Dom laughed again, and kissed him. "Can tell I'm going to have to get used to this whole shagging a merman thing." His brow furrowed, and he sat back a little, suddenly worried. " _Can_ I shag you?"

"Aye," Billy replied grinning. "You can, though it'll have to be from the front," he explained, shifting a little, fingers brushing across his tail a bare handspan down from his cock. "Besides, I'd rather shag you."

And at that, Dom gave into the temptation, and looked down, to see Billy's cock, in approximately the same position, nestled close to his tail--though it was growing a bit, now, and from a scaled sheath. The complete lack of balls surprised him, and he reached out to run his fingers over the spot where they should've been. Billy groaned softly.

Dom ran his hand over smooth scales, wonder in his eyes. Where just a moment ago had been warm skin, rough with hair against his palm, now was slick and cool, though the feel of flexing muscle remained. He slid his hand up, to Billy's waist. Slick skin, flushed from the heat of the shower spray still beating down on them, now met his fingers and Billy let out a long, soft sigh. "Dommie . . ." he murmured, shifting as his tail uncurled further, the fins resting above the edge of the tub. "Dom, lad . . . touch me."

Dom leaned down and kissed him, long and hard and searching, his other hand sliding down Billy's arm, feeling the slickness of scales there, as well. "Everywhere," he murmured, against Billy's neck, now, as he kissed his way down, lips and teeth sliding across salty skin. Skin that smelled and tasted of the ocean, for all that they were in a bathtub.

Billy's back arched, powerful muscles in his tail pushing him up against Dom, as the younger man straddled him. "Aye, lad, aye. Everywhere."

"Want you, Bills," Dom all but growled, lips traveling down his chest. "Want you so."

"Then take me," Billy replied, hands busy on Dom's skin, now, following the long, hard columns of muscle first down his back, then up, as Dom descended, lips burning a path across his skin. He shifted, moaning and arching again, when Dom's lips found and closed around a nipple, teasing with tongue and teeth. "Or let me take you."

"Like that, Billy?" Dom asked, a chuckle in his voice, as he didn't wait for an answer. Merely lowered his head and did it again, one hand descending to cup the merman's cock at the same time.

Billy thought his inarticulate moan was likely answer enough.

"I think," Dom said thoughtfully, fingers moving surely over Billy's cock now. "I think that that, that you shagging me, could definitely be arranged," he said with a grin, ducking down to take Billy's cock in his mouth, feeling the shower still spraying down on him.

Billy groaned, again arching up, tail moving restlessly, fins brushing against the shower curtain. "Dommie . . ."

Dom grinned around his mouthful. He stroked Billy's cock with his own tongue, and the merman hardened even further. "Want to fuck me, Billy?" he asked, looking up, grinning widely, his hand taking the place of his mouth. "Because I want you to."

"Gods, Dom . . ." Billy thrashed a little more, trying to concentrate against his touch, his natural form much more sensitive to the human's touch. "Aye, aye, I do. Want to be in you, lad."

Dom's grin widened, and he leaned down, kissing Billy thoroughly before leaving the shower long enough to fetch the lube. It would've been possible to take him dry--he'd done it before--but he didn't want the ache that would follow to keep him from having Billy again. And again, and again.

Billy fell back against the slick porcelain, looking up at the rings of the shower curtain in a kind of daze. Lady of the waves. Here he was, in Dominic's bathtub, in his tail, about to fuck the lad. And he couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted something more. "Think later," he advised himself. "Later."

Dom ran back as quickly as he could, nearly tripping over the tub itself in his haste. Billy's cock hadn't gone down a bit, and Dom quickly engulfed it again, mouth working him over. He unconsciously slid his inner thighs along Billy's tail, the texture and slickness only exciting him more.

He pulled back, then, unable to wait any longer, and coated his own fingers in lube, thrusting first one, then two within himself.

Billy watched, mouth going dry, as Dom stretched himself. "Lad . . ."

Dom grinned, grey eyes dark and deep with desire. "Want you, Billy," he murmured, eyes falling shut as he hit his own sweet spot and groaned aloud.

Billy could barely hold himself back, knuckles turning white as he gripped the sides of the tub. Dom hadn't told him not to touch, of course, and he thought it quite likely that taking the lead in that way was something that would never occur to his rawboned lover, but . . . Billy knew this was worth staying as still as he could for. He couldn't, quite, keep his tail from undulating slightly, scales rippling and muscles moving against Dom's thighs.

Dom added a third finger, putting on as much of a show for Billy as he could, though he needed to fake none of it, with the slickness of Billy's scales still against the insides of his knees, the feel of his fins drifting over Dom's back, the light that had come into those eyes . . . "Want you, Bills," he purred again, eyes heavy-lidded now. "Want to feel you in me, feel you come. Want to taste you, too, but not now. Soon . . . soon I'll find out if you're even saltier, if the sea's in you even there . . . but not now."

Dom used his other hand to squeeze lube onto Billy's cock, then spread it, hand sliding over the flesh, the slickness, before he somehow slid up the few necessary inches. He pulled his fingers from himself with a low groan, then took hold of Billy's cock and aimed it before slowly, ever so slowly, sinking down.

Their eyes locked, volumes passing between green and grey, messages and words unspoken, feelings and secrets and so many things neither would recall after. And then Dom's eyes fell shut, as Billy's final inch slid home, and he was completely buried in Dom's heat.

Billy moved, in that moment when Dom's eyes released him. His hands came free of the tub's edge, wrapped around Dom's hips, controlling their movements. It was different here, out of the water--though the shower still beat out its tattoo against Dom's back. The motion was at once more difficult, but more immediate, losing the slow and even resistance of the ocean. But still all was slick skin and wet kisses, as he pulled Dom down enough for their mouths to mesh, their tongues to twine together.

Billy's hands ran up, then down Dom's back, sliding over the water-slicked muscles. He murmured words of mer-song against Dom's lips, his own oddly jointed hips pressing up, tail wrapping and curling around and touching Dom in ways the human knew shouldn't be possible and couldn't find it in himself to care. Fucking a merman. He was fucking a merman. The thick, impossibly hard cock was buried inside him, pressing against every bit of his skin and he could feel it stretching and slightly burning and totally perfect . . . "Christ, Bills, _fuck_ me . . ." he growled out, slamming back down when Billy's hips came up.

So Billy did.

And soon the wet was as much their own sweat, lost in the heat of the shower, the strength of their thrusts, the pure animal force of their rutting. One of Billy's hands closed around Dom's cock, and barely had to stroke once, twice . . . and then with the third rough grasp Dom was coming, long and hard and crying out against Billy's mouth, his body, feeling himself spasm all around his lover's cock.

Billy followed, Dom's muscles proving too much for him. He cried out, himself, still in mer song, tail and body thrashing as he spilled his load into the tight, hot, _human_ sheath of Dom's body.

Dom heard the cry, the song that had haunted him so long, through the distant fog of being well fucked. He groaned, a little, pulling back and managing to sprawl half on Billy in the bottom of the tub. "Mmph. Have to find a more comfortable way to shag," he observed, kissing Billy's chin. It was closest to him.

Billy laughed softly, as the water again spilled across him, washing clean the remains of their loving. For, for all it's force, that's what it was. He wrapped an arm around Dom's slick back, pulling him closer. "Well, lad," he murmured, "there's a big, wide ocean out there."


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone calls and complications

Eventually, the cramped position was too much, even considering the size of the tub, and Dom had to move. He groaned, softly, as he pulled himself up and shut the water off. "Big, wide ocean you said, right, Bills?"

Billy laughed, hooking his arms over the edge of the tub and pulling himself up a little, letting the water flow down and to the drain. "Aye. Why, lad? Want to go exploring?"

Dom grinned, at that, deciding he very much did, if not necessarily in the way Billy meant. Then again, with that look in those impossibly green eyes . . . maybe it was _exactly_ what his merman lover had in mind. "In ways I couldn't've imagined, before last night," he replied, leaning in to kiss Billy thoroughly. "But I thought maybe breakfast, first?"

"Breakfast, first," Billy agreed. "Toss me a towel, Dommie?"

Dom did so, watching out of the corner of his eye, half drying himself, half puttering around the room, as Billy rubbed the towel carefully over himself, concentrating on the tail most of all. Not that Dom could see much of it, from across the room. But the fins were still resting over the end, his tail too long to fit in the tub even when he sat up. As much as he could, of course . . . Dom shook his head a little, drying his hair. And so, in that moment the towel passed in front of his eyes, missed the change. Arms slid around his stomach from behind, and Billy pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Breakfast, mo cridhe?" he asked, resting his chin on Dom's shoulder.

 

Billy left, reluctantly, that afternoon, with a long, drawn-out kiss. "Tomorrow, lad," he promised. "Tomorrow, when the sun's overhead."

Dom smiled. "Noon, Bills," he said, kissing him back. "That's noon. Have to find you a watch."

Billy laughed, kissed him one last time, and headed down the stairs.

Dom walked back into the house, in something of a daze. Had this really just happened? Had he really spent the night with the merman from his dreams?

Well, yeah, he had. The evidence in his tub this morning had been pretty hard to ignore, after all. And the memory of Billy's silver green scales sliding beneath his fingers . . .

Dom shivered, surveying the wreck of the bedroom, the bathroom. The living room, too, they'd made love as humans again, before Billy'd left. Dom was exhausted, drained, and more content than he could've imagined. Except for the lingering surrealism of it all.

The ringing phone pulled him somewhat from his daze. "Yo," he said, answering and flopping back on the couch when he saw it was Elijah. "What's up, mate?"

"Dude, Dom, you sound _happy_. What gives?" Lij asked accusingly.

Dom rolled his eyes. " _Thanks_ , Doodle. Am happy. Hell, I'm Dominic Monaghan, babe. I'm _always_ happy. It's in the contracts." But rather than bitter, the words came out with a kind of giddiness. Something that would've, in a girl, been called a giggle.

"You're not fucked up, are you?" Lij's voice was wary, now.

"Swear I'm totally sober," Dom replied. And he was, unless mer come was an intoxicant. That thought made him giggle again.

"Oooookay," Elijah said, his tone clearly saying he wasn't touching Dom's state of mind with a ten-foot pole. "Anyway. When are you coming back?"

Dom shrugged. "Eventually. Someday. Never. Don't know yet. Why?"

"Because you've been in the ass end of nowhere for over two weeks?" Elijah suggested. "And fuck, man, you're making me sound like Astin."

Dom laughed again. "Not quite. You haven't lectured me on safety or the money I'm wasting by not working right now. You planning to?"

"No." Lij sighed. "Not yet. But you should get your ass back. Before you lose the show. It's what you've been trying for, Dom, you know that as well as I do. And running off 'cause a chick you didn't even care about dumped you . . ."

"Lij . . ." Dom's voice softened, and he sighed, too. "It wasn't like that."

"I know," Elijah replied, his voice slightly bitter, raising memories of old wounds. "Look, Dom, you know how I feel but . . . just come home? If only long enough to sort things out?"

Dom sighed again, long and soft, and nodded, though he knew Lij wouldn't see it. "I'll try. I've got some stuff happening, here, and . . . can't get away real fast."

"Meet a local?" Lij asked, his tone closer to the half-amused teasing he normally had for Dom's relationships.

"Maybe," Dom replied, on more familiar ground now.

"So bring him along," Lij suggested with a shrug. "Impress him with Hollywood, and your great success and famous friends. Offer to introduce him to Frodo."

"Couldn't do that, Frodo's too busy," Dom replied, grinning a little, though the thought of Billy in Hollywood was . . . unsettling, to say the least.

"Yeah. Well, he's a bit of a fucker, anyway," Elijah agreed thoughtfully. "But whatever gives with this guy, come back soon. Astin and I won't let you wreck yourself over this. She's not worth it."

Dom smiled a little, imaging Lij, playing with a clove, pacing as he talked, the look in his eyes . . . "I know. And I won't fuck this up, too. Promise."

Lij sighed in relief. "See you soon, then. And, uh, Astin'll probably be calling about the same thing . . ."

Dom laughed aloud. "Wouldn't be at all surprised. And Lij? I don't know if I'll convince him to come with me, but I _am_ happy."

"Good, Dom," Elijah said softly, once again pushing down his own regrets. "I'm glad. Take care of yourself, man."

"You, too," Dom said, smile softening a little as Elijah hung up. Elijah. Brash and young and surprising vulnerable underneath it all, despite his years in Hollywood, as a child actor. And, to the American's endless frustration, like the younger brother Dom'd never had. Nothing more.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the Sea

Billy swam in green blue light, a soft smile playing at his lips as he sliced through the water. Dom _knew_. Dom had guessed, in a single night, and . . . didn't seem to mind. Billy wasn't sure which part of it astonished him more.

He'd thought it no less than disaster, when those ocean-grey eyes had met his with sure knowledge that morning. Had braced himself, for the rejection that was sure to come. For Dom to rise from the bed, throw him out in a mixture of fear and disgust . . .

But he hadn't. He'd pulled Billy close, kissed him again, and thanked him for the rescue. And then asked to see him, had made love to him, as himself. "Bright Lady," Billy murmured in wonder, the mer song echoing back to him as he dived through a dark tunnel of rock. It was almost too much to take in.

As was the memory of the feel of Dom's skin, wet and slippery, sliding against his scales. And then the heat of him, as he'd settled himself on Billy's cock . . . Billy shuddered, in remembrance, and firmly told that cock to behave itself. Dom was miles away, now, after all.

It had been incredible, though, no doubt, and all Billy could really think was that he wanted more of it. Of Dom. As much as possible. He hadn't had a plan, of revealing himself, letting the lad know who he was, but now that he did . . . well, it seemed seeing each other wouldn't need to end, and the things they could explore . . .

 

Billy's battle with his cock lasted the entire swim.

 

Eventually he reached his home. A city, a world he'd barely thought of, in the past day. One he'd tried to escape, one he thought he would quite willing leave, now, to follow the lure of those ocean eyes. A mer trait, and in such a human . . .

Liv and Orli were waiting for him, in the garden behind his quarters. Gossiping, as ever, about the romantic entanglements of the court, real or imagined, who was gaining favour with whom, what advances across the board each had earned. Billy'd always held himself above such behaviour, hardly needing to cement his place. He'd been born to it, after all, and not likely to lose his grandfather's favour to that extent.

A frown crossed his face, though, as he angled in on the grotto, hearing Liv's high voice raised in laughter. If he knew, now, where Billy had been, what he'd been doing . . . It truly didn't bear thinking about.

And so he didn't. He descended, smiling blandly at his cousins. "Find something interesting in my rooms?" he asked, settling to a carved seat across from them.

"Plenty," Liv replied, one dark eyebrow arched, her dark cloud of hair swirling around her with the currents. "Except for one thing. You. Now why do you suppose that was?"

Billy shrugged, one hand playing with the cuff Dom had given him, which he still had to take off any time except the formal dinners. "Couldn't say."

Orlando laughed. "You don't have to, do you? You're practically _glowing_ with it."

Billy glared at him briefly. "Orlando . . ."

"You did it, didn't you?" Orli asked, grinning delightedly. "You splashed your split-tail."

Liv wrinkled her nose yet again at her cousin's taste. "Ewww. Billy, _please_ tell me you didn't. And Orli, don't use that word."

"What makes you think I'd tell either of you if I did?" Billy asked, getting up and swimming in a restless circle. He'd seen Dom do much the same thing, and remembered he'd called it 'pacing.'

"Because we already know about him," Orli answered promptly. "And because we're the ones who told Grandfather you had a mistress, so he'd leave you alone about missing dinner. That means we're entitled to details."

Billy paused in his restless swimming to raise an eyebrow at Orli. "It does, does it? Whose rule is that?" His face softened, then. "But thank you, both for . . . for covering for me, aye?"

"It's the least we can do, since you won't be careful on your own," Liv replied with a sigh. "Is he worth it?"

A soft and unbelievably radiant smile spread across Billy's face. "Aye. Aye, every bit of it and more."

 

Billy didn't stay home long. He checked in, with everyone and everything he had to, rearranged a few duties, and ate the feast that night. But sleep eluded him, and soon enough he was following the silver blue path of moonlight shining through the water, heading back to his Dominic. It wasn't quite light when he arrived, but he merely pulled himself up on the shore, drying off and changing, the shrinking and splitting of his tail seeming to take an eternity.

Finally, he was human again, and pulling on the coarse weave of denim, and the tightly knit wool of a jumper, before taking the stairs. Easier, definitely to go up them without Dom attached to his mouth. Not nearly as much fun, though.

He found the hidden key Dom had told him of, and let himself in the back door, hoping his lover was a sound enough sleeper that he wouldn't wake and try to bash Billy with a frying pan, or something. (The small bit of TV he had seen had given him an . . . _interesting_ impression of many parts of human life, to say the least.) But all was quiet and safe. So he moved carefully into Dominic's room, shed his clothes, and slipped under the blankets with his lover, who turned to him even in sleep.

"Bills?" Dom murmured, coming partly awake. "You're not s'posed to be here 'til t'morrow."

"Do ye mind?" Billy asked, grinning at Dom's slurred and sleepy speech, the way he pulled the mer even closer to him.

"No. No, like this better," Dom said decidedly, kissing Billy tenderly, if a bit sleepily, before drifting off again.

And Billy cuddled close, laying his head on Dom's shoulder. "Much better," he agreed, wondering what that meant for him. And deciding that, as long as it meant Dom's arms as well, he didn't much care about the rest.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble's brewing . . .

Waking was warmer, and much more comfortable, than Dom had expected. He smiled in his sleep, arms tightening around the warm body beside him. Billy'd come back to him, even in the middle of the night. "Mornin, love," he murmured softly, words escaping his mouth easily and without thought.

Billy slept still beside him, shifting when Dom's breath ruffled his hair. "Not time to wake up," he mumbled in reply, forgetting himself.

The soft tones of mer song brought a smile to Dom's face, and he opened his eyes, smiling down at his lover. "I've no idea what you just said, Bills, but I'm all for it."

Billy woke more, at that, cracking an eyelid. "Hmm?" He realized where he was, and with who, and smiled, snuggling closer. "Mmm. Morning, Dom."

"You came back early," Dom said, turning a little to look at him better, running a hand over Billy's bare skin.

"You're cuter than my cousins," Billy replied, kissing him lingeringly. "Mm. Do that more. I'm all itchy."

Dom laughed softly, and kept up his soft caress. "You have cousins?"

Billy nodded, stretching himself a little. "Twins. Liv and Orli. Think I'm cracked, for shagging a split-tail." He opened both eyes, grinning at Dom. "That'd be you."

Dom laughed. "'Split-tail'? I like that. And if you're cracked, I'm glad of it." He kissed Billy again, lingeringly. "I don't suppose I'll get to meet them?"

Billy raised an eyebrow, shifting a little. He'd have to change, get in water, soon, before the itchiness got to be too much. "Would you want to? And I don't know if they'd want to come up here. We're not supposed to."

Dom frowned slightly at that, wondering what it meant for the future. For what he was starting to feel for Billy. Hell, _already_ felt. "Why did you, then?"

"I'm curious," Billy replied with a lazy grin. "And there's the hot human with ocean-coloured eyes, who keeps calling me back."

Dom smiled, slow and warm, making Billy's knees go weak. Something he'd thought was a figure of speech, until now. "And here I thought it was the siren's song that bewitched . . ." Dom murmured, before kissing him again.

It was quite some time, before they got out of bed.

 

When they did, it was to the shower, Billy practically wriggling now. Dom laughed softly, watching him. "I'd ask if you had ants in your pants, but you're naked. What's up?"

"Dehydrated," Billy responded, sitting in the bottom of the tub as Dom fiddled with the water temperature. "Can't stay like this too long, or I get itchy and uncomfortable." He sighed in relief, as the shower started and Dom aimed the spray down on him. Though, as Billy'd asked before, he didn't watch the change, merely kept his eyes trained on one edge of the tub. It was enough, to see the long fins uncurl up over it. He looked down, then, to once again see the merman in his tub.

"We _have_ to go swimming together," Dom said, a note of awe in his voice.

"After breakfast, aye?" Billy asked, holding scaled arms out for Dom. "Or should I say second breakfast?" he asked, curling a hand around Dom's cock and stroking lightly.

Dom laughed breathlessly. "Third, at this rate," he pointed out. "Not going to get very clean, if you keep that up . . ."

"What makes you think I want you to be clean, Dommie?" Billy purred, tail curling up against Dom's back, his fins brushing against his lover's shoulder blades.

Dom leaned down, taking his mouth, kissing and plundering, the slickness of scales against his inner thighs no longer feeling strange. Amazing, and more arousing than he ever would've thought, but not strange. "Who knew I had a fish fetish?"

Billy laughed softly, kissing him again. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, running his hands down Dom's back. "And fine, get clean if that's all you want to do, for now. Means I get the say, when we swim."

Dom agreed with a moan, when Billy's hand tightened around him for a moment, before releasing him again. "Bills . . ." he protested.

"What happened to getting clean?" Billy teased, replacing his hand.

"Rather be dirty with you."

Billy laughed again, curling his tail beneath him to push Dom back a little. "Did you want breakfast, lad?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

Dom grinned, and slid down, one hand teasing Billy's cock from its sheath. He ducked his head down and engulfed it, as it emerged, humming softly, smiling inwardly at Billy's moans. He thought of something, from the day before, and let one hand drift lower, passing the spot which should've held Billy's balls and was instead smooth scales. Down past it and . . . there. A small slit, feel of skin rather than scale, and Billy moaned when his finger ran across it. "Dommie . . ."

Dom didn't answer, just pulsed his tongue against Billy's now rock hard length, as he carefully worked the tip of his finger within him.

Billy gripped the sides of the tub, lightheaded with the sensations coursing through him. He moaned a curse in mer song, as Dom's finger slipped in further, wriggling and searching. The moan became a cry, when he hooked it forward, finding that spot . . .

Dom did grin, at that, releasing Billy's cock for a moment. "Guess some anatomy's the same between species, huh? Found your sweet spot."

Billy managed to open his eyes to mock-glare down at him. "There are other uses for that mouth, Monaghan."

Dom grinned cheekily, and swallowed Billy's cock to the hilt, humming around it as his finger hooked again.

Billy cried out again, long and low. It wasn't long before Dom's mouth and finger had him coming, and coming hard.

Dom swallowed, automatically, grimacing slightly at the taste, more salty than he would've expected, or imagined. He slipped his finger free, and let Billy slide from his mouth. "Third breakfast it is," he said decidedly.

 

Breakfast--third, and fourth, by this point--was over, and they were curled around each other in the living room, not quite willing to part and put on enough clothes to head down to the beach yet, before Dom remembered Elijah's phone call. "Have you ever traveled anywhere?" he asked absently, playing with Billy's fingers.

Billy shook his head, snuggling further back against Dom's chest. "Between here and home. Nowhere else, not when I'm expected at the feasts. And they're every night, almost."

Dom blinked. "Oh. That's where you've been running off to, then, isn't it?"

Billy blushed, and nodded. "Aye. My grandfather expects me. He thinks I've found a mistress, though, and told me to enjoy myself, for the time being. My cousins may've misled him."

"I think I like your cousins," Dom said, kissing the back of his neck. "And that's good to know, why you always left. Thought it was me, at first. Coming out, kissing you, so many things . . . "

Billy's blush deepened, and he turned to kiss Dom lingeringly. "Wasn't you, mo cridhe. Never you."

Dom smiled at that, and kissed him back. And decided to file the question of how it was Billy spoke Gaelic away for later. "Anyway. Can you travel? It's not like a dryad, or something, and you have to stay close to your tree?"

Billy raised an eyebrow. "One, I'm no a wood sprite. And two, aye. Physically I can travel. Why?"

"I . . . I may have to go home, soon," Dom admitted. "Not for very long, maybe, but . . ." He bit his lip. "You know about TV and movies, right? I mean, we've talked about them a bit, if not very much . . ."

"You're babbling, Dom," Billy said, trying to push away the sinking sensation in his chest. Dom was leaving him so soon? "Aye, I know of TV and movies. What of them?"

"Sorry." Dom took a deep breath, and let it out. "I'm, um, famous. Not hugely, or anything, but I'm an actor. And I've been in a few movies, a few TV shows, and . . . I've got one lined up I'm supposed to start soon. A show. Don't know if I will, but I need to finalize getting out of it, if I don't, and . . . I need to go to LA, for a bit. I wanted to ask you to come with me."

Billy wasn't sure what part of that to respond to, first, his mind whirling. He was splashing an actor? A _famous_ actor? Lady of the waves, but he could pick them! "I . . ."

"You don't have to answer right away," Dom said quickly. "I don't have to leave yet. I'll put it off as long as I can. But I wanted to let you know. You'd never mentioned recognizing me, and I guess now I know why, but . . . I wanted you to know there are people who do, and . . . and what my commitments are."

"How long?" Billy asked, finally finding his voice. "How long would we . . . be gone?"

"A fortnight, at the most," Dom replied, wondering why he automatically used the older term for it. "Two weeks. If I pull out."

Billy frowned. "Should you? I mean, Dom, isn't this your life?"

Dom sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "It's a great show, and an incredible opportunity, but . . ." He swallowed hard. "But I love you."

Billy closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the world seem to slow around him. "I love you, too, Dom," he murmured.

Dom's breath hitched slightly, and he hugged Billy closer. "So what does that mean?"

Billy sighed. "I don't know. Except that it's true. I do love you. I've loved you . . ."

"Since you saved me," Dom finished for him, smiling a little. "Same as how long I've loved you. Face it, Bills, we're meant for each other. I've spent my life trying to find your eyes again."

Billy turned in his arms at that, meeting Dom's eyes, tracing the edge of his cheek, surprised and touched by the sentiment, the honest simplicity of the other man's words. "Oh Dommie . . ." he kissed him, long and soft. "When do you have to know? If I'll go with you?"

Dom did some quick reckoning in his mind. "I can put off leaving for ten days. I won't need to know until the night before. I'll have my agent get a second ticket, and then cancel it, if you . . . if you stay."

Billy nodded slowly. "I can't tell you, yet. I love you, but I have a duty, to my grandfather, to my people. I . . . I can't tell you, yet."

Dom kissed him, with all the love he could. "I understand."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seperate Musings

Billy pressed closer against Dom, squirming a little beneath the blankets. A full moon shone down across them, and Dom was snoring. And Billy? Was finding it endearing. Fuck, but he really had fallen for this human.

He sighed to himself, thinking it over. Should he? Go away with Dom, back to LA, to the world his lover had left? It was possible, he knew. There were mers who did it, if not often. Who left the sea, got themselves lives on land. He even knew where to go, within the village, to obtain the papers he'd need, the proof of existence . . .

But just because he knew he _could_ do it, didn't mean he should. Even if it was only for a few weeks . . . Missing a night here and there he could explain, but not that much. And he did have responsibility, no matter how much he might wish he didn't. Besides, with this . . . Would Dom expect him to leave the ocean forever? To go and live as a human with him? Would he do it?

Billy feared very much that the answer to all his questions was yes. He simply wasn't sure he could deny Dom that, if he asked for it. Not when he could never ask Dom to do the same for him.

He squirmed again, one hand trailing across Dom's stomach, the muscles and skin, so dry . . . He'd done it to himself, hadn't he? Fallen in love with this man, this human, even if he hadn't meant to.

And now what? Where did that leave him? They belonged to two very, very different worlds, and . . . could they even hope to make a try of it? Even ignoring his duties, his world, could he live away from the ocean, just changing in the shower, or a swimming pool?

It wouldn't be the same. Might not even be enough to sustain him. How could he know, for sure? But Dom . . . the ocean-eyed lad had haunted him for so long, and now was in his arms. In his arms, and . . . he didn't want to give it--him--up.

Two weeks. Maybe . . . Maybe it would be worth it. He could explain it away, if he really, really had to. And Dom . . . Billy sighed, propping himself up a little to watch his lover sleep. Dom might be worth giving it all up for. "Love you, mo cridhe," he murmured, decision made. He could only hope it was the right one.

 

Dom's cell phone rang, the music tone somehow both angry and annoying. He fumbled for it in his sleep. "‘lo?"

"Dom!"

Dom groaned, turning over. "Lij. What?"

"So cheerful, Monaghan."

"It's five fucking am," Dom replied, after checking the clock. "Just like last time. _What_?"

"Just checking to see when you're flying in," Lij replied, with studied innocence.

Dom groaned. "I'm booking a flight later today. You know, when it's light outside. And my eyes are open."

"This guy coming with you?" Same deceptively innocent tone.

Dom pulled himself up a little more, but Billy was dead to the world. "I'm buying two tickets." Which wasn't really an answer, but . . .

"Oh. Good. So . . ."

"Two weeks, Lij," Dom promised with a sigh. "I'll be back in two weeks. And you can tell Astin, too, and get him off my back. So glad I decided to get away from it all . . ."

There was a short silence, in response to his sarcasm. "All right, Dom," Lij said at last, subdued. "I'll see you then, I expect. Enjoy your little vacation from reality."

Dom winced, as Lij hung up. And hauled himself into the bathroom, scrubbing his face with both hands and not daring to look in the mirror. Vacation from reality. Fuck, but that seemed a little too accurate. A little too likely. Even if Billy went back with him now . . . What kind of chance for a future did they have?

"A bird may love a fish, but where would they make a home?" he murmured, the quote coming to mind from somewhere. And wings he might lack, but Bills . . . "Shit."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations being made

Dom crawled back to bed, and Billy's arms, trying to forget Elijah's words, forget the trip home he'd have to take, forget that Billy's responsibilities seemed likely to part them, if his own didn't. Forget everything but the brine salt smell deep within Billy's skin.

He managed a good job of it, too, for the next few days. Nearly a week passed, and neither of them mentioned the trip again, though Dom secured the tickets. Which produced an interesting twist, finding a last name for the mer.

They spent hours, on a Scottish clan website, pulling up one hideously garish tartan after another, giggling over the names. But finally they found one Billy liked the sound of that had a tartan ridiculous enough to keep Dom happy. And so Billy Boyd he became.

Other than that, though, they made love, and talked, and shagged, and played video games. And watched movies. Dom found a small video store, in town, and managed to rent all his own films–and TV shows, since Hetty'd just come out--without blushing too horrifically. The bored clerk behind the desk merely glanced at them, though, and shrugged. "You look a little like that kid, you know," she said, handing him the box.

Dom sighed. "Yeah. I get that a lot."

And once home, they had a marathon.

Billy was fascinated, drawn into all the films. But to Rings most of all, of course.

"Your ears look good, pointed," he'd observed, at first, earning a pinch. And had continued to comment on various bits, as it went along. He agreed that Merry didn't have nearly enough scenes, that Legolas was definitely a ponce, with the hots for Aragorn, and that Pippin was adorable. The last caused a shadow to cross Dom's face, and he sighed.

"Have I said something wrong?" Billy asked, shifting a bit.

Dom shook his head. "No. Just . . . Trev's got his own life now. We don't hear much from him, anymore," he said, shrugging. "He wants to get away, from being known as a hobbit for everything." He shrugged. "Guess I can understand, but . . . we'd all gotten pretty close, during filming. Now he's married, has a kid on the way, I think, and we only see him at big events, where the whole cast _has_ to be there."

"I'm sorry," Billy replied, kissing him tenderly. He didn't understand all the dynamics, but . . . "Were you lovers?"

Dom laughed softly. "You're good. Yeah, we were. Figured Merry and Pip must've been, too. Had a lot of fun, during filming . . ." He sighed, and shrugged again. "Oh well. I'm better off, now."

Billy wasn't sure what to make of that, but kissed him again, settling down to watch as Merry and Pippin were separated.

 

A day or so later, Billy disappeared for the afternoon. Dom wasn't too worried--after all, he had to go home _occasionally_ \--but found it nearly impossible to distract himself in the mer's absence.

 

Billy, for his part, fetched the bag of Scotch pearls he'd brought up with him the day before, and headed to the small, fairly hidden shop in the village. It didn't look like a shop from the outside. Didn't look like much of all, a rundown cottage near the end of town. But he knocked, hoping the information he'd gotten was good.

"Aye, I'm coming, I'm coming," came the voice from inside. The door opened, and a grizzled old man peered out. "What can I do for you, lad?"

Billy blushed a little. "I'm here . . . Um. Ian sent me to you," he said at last.

A frighteningly bushy eyebrow raised, at the mention of the mer. "You'd better come in. So, what is it you're needing? Clothes, a home, papers? I can fix it for you however you need, have doctors swearing they birthed you themselves. Long as you keep yourself dry, o'course."

Billy sagged a little in relief, to hear he wouldn't have to explain. Ian had said he wouldn't, but still . . . "I need papers. To be able to leave the country, on a plane."

The old man didn't blink an eye. "How soon?"

"A week?" Billy bit his lip.

Again, no change of expression. "Where'll you be going? Will you be wanting dual citizenship, or just the standard Scottish?"

Billy blinked at him in surprise. "Er. Both. America, and here."

"You've got the pearls?"

He handed the sack over, watching as the old man went through it. "All right. Help you fill out a few things, take some pictures . . . Have it all sorted for you in four days. Maybe five, if things snag up. Come back then, and you'll be a member of her royal majesty's populace. And a technical yank, too, though the git leading them is no prize." He stretched, looking Billy over. "Aye, you look like your father, William," he said, the name coming out in mer song, and making him jump. "He never asked me for papers, though."

"He had less reason to leave," Billy replied simply.

He smiled. "Hope she's worth it," he said, standing. "Come along to the back, we'll get you a full human life worked out. How do you fancy being a plumber?"

 

Dom was in the bath, when Billy returned. He smiled, hearing the soft splashes from the bathroom, and shed his clothes through the house, already thinking of how good the water would feel on his itching skin.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they're off!

Dom was in the bath, when Billy returned. He smiled, hearing the soft splashes from the bathroom, and shed his clothes through the house, already thinking of how good the water would feel on his itching skin. "Hullo, Dommie," he said, leaning against the bathroom door after shutting it behind him, naked and erect already.

Dom felt his mouth go dry, at the sight before him. "'lo, Bills," he managed, even as he hardened. He swallowed, as Billy pushed off the door and came closer. "Missed you, today."

A smile curved the mer's lips. "Missed you, too, lad. You look lonely, in there..."

Dom swallowed again, and nodded, pushing himself back against the edge of the tub, offering more room to Billy. "Definitely lonely." He grinned, then, hand curling around his own cock, as it hardened in the warm water. "Thinking about you, all by myself... Nearly forced to take matters into my own hands, you know." His head fell back a little, as he dragged his thumb over the head of his cock.

Billy sat on the edge of the tub, watching him, green eyes hooded. "Dom..."

"Want me, Bills?" Dom purred. "I want you."

And, with a low growl, Billy slid into the water and took him.

 

An hour or so later, they were on the bed, Billy stretched out as Dom explored his tail lazily, tracing scales and trying to tickle him. "Bills, what’re we gonna tell people?”

“Hmm?” Billy asked, twitching his tail away yet again.

“About how we met, and all? About who you are?”

Billy shrugged, not wanting to think about it. “I got a passport and all today. I’m Billy Boyd, parents both deceased, with an older sister in Glasgow. And we met on the beach, aye? On vacation, from my job as a bookbinder, of all things.”

Dom blinked. “Oh. Oh. Um, that’s what we’ll tell them, then.”

Billy twisted, kissing Dom firmly. “I don’t want to think about leaving here, about what’ll happen when we do. I want to think about this, the two of us, here, holding each other...” He wormed his tail between Dom’s legs. “Please?”

Dom swallowed hard, as Billy’s eyes locked him in. “All right,” he murmured.

 

 

But there was no ignoring it, the day they left. Billy had a suitcase full of new clothes that Dom had insisted on buying for him. He felt awkward about it, but the Brit would accept no payment in return, even if he’d been able to change pearls and ancient coins. “We’re nearly the same size, and I can wear all of it later, if...” But there Dom trailed off, not wanting to think of a time he wouldn’t be with Billy.

So Billy had agreed. And after that things seemed to move too quickly. In no time at all, they were leaving the beach, in Dom’s rented car, and driving for an airport. Billy watched the ocean recede behind them, a clenching in his gut he simply couldn’t ignore. He’d be back, right? He had to be...

“All right?” Dom asked, reaching over and squeezing his hand lightly.

Billy managed a soft smile, and squeezed back. “I’m with you, aren’t I? Means I’m fine.”

Dom blushed. “Oh. Are you ready for this? The airport... it’s going to be rough, I think. Crowded and busy and a lot of walking...”

Billy bit his lip, but nodded. “I’ll be fine. Might need to rest, after... but I can make it as far as needed. Don’t worry about me, Dom. I’ll keep up.”

Dom nodded, squeezing his hand again, before pulling onto the motorway. “I’ll walk beside you.”

 

Billy remembered his promise, as they hurried through the halls of Heathrow, crowded and loud and more overwhelming than anything he could have imagined. So different from the cool green world beneath the waves, as he was shoved in the security line again, as Dom whispered more instructions, on what to wear through the odd plastic gateway, and what to take off. His fingers fumbled over the buttons on his jacket, and he cursed in mer without thinking. It disappeared under the buzz of the room, but he flushed when Dom pressed against him a little. “All right, love?”

“Fine,” he replied, finally pulling the coat off. “Wishing I could make you visit my home... but fine.”

He walked through the gate, not even panicking when he was pulled aside, his belt buckle setting off the loud alarm. Lady of the Waves. If this was leaving Britian, what would arriving in LA be like?

He gathered his things together again, struggling into his jacket, envious of Dom’s ease with the whole pointless production.

 

 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Lij dropped down onto Sean’s couch. “What is he playing at?”

Sean looked up and raised eyebrow. “Resident Evil?”

“Ha. Very funny.” Lij sprawled out, slinging his leg over the arm. “He’s bringing that Scot back with him.”

“I know. He told me. He sounds happy.”

“He’s deluded.”

Sean hid a grin and shook his head. “He’s _Dom_. It goes without saying.”

“He thinks he’s in love. And he hasn’t been gone that long. What’s he going to do when this falls through? You know what he’s like when he breaks up with someone. _I_ don’t want to have to put him back together again.” Lij sighed. “This is a mistake.”

“Maybe,” Sean agreed mildly, thinking that Lij would probably enjoy putting Dom back together. And then taking him to pieces over and over and over again.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> La la la

It was loud, busy, and big. Those were Billy’s first confused impression of Los Angeles, as he stepped off the plane into an airport full of rushing people. His skin itched, and he longed with all his being to be back on his island with Dom, just off the coast, making love under the waves. To be cool, quiet, and safe.

But it wasn’t to be, yet, as Dom squeezed his hand and gently tugged him along, heading down one long hallway after another, through crowds of people who even smelled miserable. Why had he agreed to this? Why had he thought following Dom across the world was a good idea? What had he been thinking? Billy shuddered, shifting his bag on his shoulder, and nearly tripping, as feet he’d now worn for too long stumbled yet again.

“Almost there, Bills,” Dom murmured, as they rode a moving staircase down. Billy wasn’t sure what it was called. “We’ll just get our bags, and Lij is meeting us here.”

“What?” Billy’s head shot up at that.

“Elijah’s giving us a ride,” Dom repeated, yawning. “I’m knackered, Bills. Couldn’t drive us back myself.”

“Oh…All right.” Shit. And fuck, and bollocks, and every other colorful phrase he’d learned from Dom. He had to deal with one of Dom’s friends, some celebrity type, with no more warning than a few minutes? Billy shuddered again, thinking he really hadn’t signed on for all of this. He suddenly understood exactly how all those caught fish he’d seen had felt, flopping and gasping, completely out of their element. Mers belonged in the sea, and he was no better than a fish out of water, now. “That’ll be nice,” he managed, wondering if they’d make it to Dom’s place before he clawed his skin off.

 

Elijah paced back and forth, just outside the baggage claim, chain-smoking clove cigarettes. Fuck. Dom would be there, soon, with that…person he’d picked up in Scotland. What’d he think he was doing, anyway? He was supposed to go off to the islands, realize what he’d always wanted was right under his nose, and come running back to LA and Elijah’s arms. Instead…he’d picked up some native who probably had an accent so thick no one would understand him. And might be wearing a kilt. And probably only ate haggis. And fucked sheep.

Lij wallowed in the stereotypes, knowing well enough they wouldn’t be true. Not if the man had attracted Dom’s attention, and held it. But it wasn’t fucking fair! He’d put in his time, dealt with every one of Dom’s disastrous relationships, and dammit, he’d earned his chance! It wasn’t fair some nobody was fucking it up!

It was then he turned, and saw them coming. And admitted, if grudgingly and only to himself, that at least the nobody was hot. Too old though. Definitely.

He sighed, and dropped his cigarette to the ground, grinding it to powder beneath his foot. Hell. He wasn’t an actor for nothing. With a smile even Dom wouldn’t know was false, he opened the door and headed in to meet his rival.

 

Billy’s fears were calmed a bit, when Dom and Elijah ended up talking the whole ride, and all he had to do was say hello, and then goodbye again. The lad looked disappointed, when Dom said they were just planning to turn in, and maybe they’d all have dinner together, but went off on his own.

And it was approximately twenty seconds after he left that Billy was naked in the bathtub _finally_ in his proper form.

 

Orli frowned, swimming back and forth across the grotto. “Liv, he’s insane, right?”

Liv shrugged, brushing her hair with a silver comb. “He’s in love. There’s no accounting for that, after all.”

“But with a split-tail? Honestly, Liv, there’s something sick about that…”

With a sudden roar of outraged mer-song, Billy’s grandfather entered the grotto. “A _split-tail_! Tell me everything!”

 

Dom’s meeting with the producers went well, and—with quite a bit of persuasion, Billy managed to convince him to take the show. “We’ll figure something out, aye? I’ll no leave you, Dommie, not if there’s a thing we can do about it. We can visit often enough, if nothing else.”

And so Dom had done it. Decided to go for the show, signed the contracts, and arranged to spend all the time until shooting in Scotland.

Elijah never warmed up to him, but Billy decided he could deal with that. He’d rather Dom’s friends treated him with indifference than outright hatred. He did have to wonder if Dom knew how the lad felt about him, but decided it wasn’t his place to say so. Elijah seemed likely to let it go, at least, willing to keep the peace and even—grudgingly—seeming glad that Dom was so happy.

So the week seemed to pass quickly, though Billy couldn’t help but chafe under the feelings and worries of the millions of people surrounding him. But, finally, they were boarding a plane home. Just a long, dry flight back, and then home.

 

They ran down to the ocean the moment they arrived back, shedding their clothes and heading for the water. Kissing, stumbling, not quite making it, they fell to the sand, bodies intertwined, lips melding together. Dom’s lips curved up against Billy’s mouth as the mer’s hand found his cock, stroking hard and fast even as his lips fastened to Dom’s throat.

“So good, Bills…”

It was then that flash of light, and a crack as of thunder split the air, and Billy started, pulled back, and froze.

His grandfather stood— _stood_ —with his feet in the waves, his power controlling a mer’s need to change at the touch of salt water. “William. It is time to come home.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What did Billy's grandfather have to say?

Billy felt his legs literally melt away, a tail taking their place, his own control helpless to stop it. “Granda…”

“I don’t want to hear it, William. You’ve had your fun, but no rut of this sort can last. Back to the ocean with you, lad. Back to your own world.”

“I…Granda, I’m with Dom, I want to…”

“Silence. There is no possible relationship between mer and human. You’ll lose yourself in this.” His face was grim, implacable. “You have a responsibility to your people, William. You _cannot_ carry on this way. You’ve had your fun, lad, and it’s time to end it. Now. Pleasures of the flesh are one thing, but…” He shook his head. “I’ll give you a few moments, now, to explain. And that must be the end of it.” The tall mer walked out into the water, gradually disappearing under the waves.

Billy sat with his tail curled under him, stunned, looking at the spot where his grandfather had disappeared. “I have to go, Dom…”

“No,” Dom said, finally finding his voice, struggling to his feet. “No, Bills, you can’t…you can’t leave me. I can’t be without you.”

“I have to go,” Billy replied helplessly, looking over at Dom. His lover’s eyes were dark, face a mask of pain. “My people, my life…I have to live under the water, love. We knew this could…we had to know this couldn’t last.”

“It has to! You came back to me, you’ve made love to me, and you’ve stayed--you made your decision. Billy…you _love_ me! You’ve said so…”

“I _do_ love you, Dommie-lad,” Billy replied, in anguish. “But my whole life…I can’t leave it.”

"Then I'll go with you, Billy," Dom said, eyes a bit wild, dropping to his knees in the sand. He clutched Billy's hand, forearm, feeling the slick scales beneath his fingers. “I’ll leave the land, leave my life…Nothing’s holding me here, I’ll go with you!”

Billy shook his head, easing Dom's grip. "You can't, lad. You couldn't breathe; the pressure'd kill you. And even if not...you'd be deaf, mute...I couldn't let you lose so much of yourself. Human’s can’t become mer. I wish to the Lady you could. But you _can’t_.”

"But I can't be parted from you, either," Dom said, fear catching in his chest. "Billy...I love you.”

"I know." The mer's brilliant green eyes closed on saltwater tears of pain. "I know.”

Dom sagged, the fight leaving him in one breath. “So what do we do?”

Billy swallowed hard. “I…I go under the waves, now. And try to make my granda understand, try to…to make things work.” Could he do it? Turn away from all he had known, from the life that had been decided for him before his birth? Could he follow his heart, ignoring all he’d ever been taught? He desperately feared he didn’t have that courage.

Dom nodded slowly, wondering if Billy would ever come back. He somehow didn’t think so. “I’ll…we’ve got the house for another few weeks. I won’t leave, until I know…”

Billy reached for him, kissing him softly. “I’ll come for you, lad. If it’s within my power…I’ll come back for you.” And with that, he headed under the waves, leaving Dom alone on the beach once more.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end, nearly two years later. I hope you all enjoyed the ride!

It hadn’t been his fault. Dom could admit that to himself, as he sat there, letting sand slip through his fingers. Nor his own, not really. A relationship between a mer and a human…how could they have expected it to work? It was no wonder Billy had returned to the ocean, had left him. Dom wondered now how he thought it could’ve been different, how he could’ve imagined Billy would come back with him, to Hollywood. The mer had hated it, the two weeks they’d spent there. And even if he’d eventually moved to Hawaii like the show hoped...it wouldn’t have been like Billy’s home.

Dom molded the sand beneath his fingers, a shape of scales forming. He looked at it for a moment, before raking his fingers through the half finished sculpture, destroying it again. Billy’s peridot eyes haunted him, and he hadn’t slept well since that night. That night when Billy gone back beneath the waves.

He’d sat on the beach for hours afterward, hoping that Billy would return, tell him it had been a mistake. That things could go back to the way they’d been before. But Billy hadn’t come back, and dawn had found Dom freezing and alone. He’d returned to the beach every day since, wrapped warmly, keeping vigil by the water, waiting for his lover.

It felt eerily like the first few times Billy had gone back, when Dom still hadn’t known his secret, had never caressed those green scales, never nibbled the tips of pointed ears. Now those features haunted his dreams, and he wanted nothing more than to be with Billy again. No matter what it cost him.

Lij had called, still sounding jealous, wanting to know how things were going, when Dom’s flight back was. Dom hadn’t known what to tell him, and had lied through his teeth. He knew if there had been any way to follow Billy beneath the water’s surface he would’ve taken it. Given up the show, his friends, even his family, to follow the green-eyed mer to his home.

A part of him was even angry that Billy wouldn’t do the same for him. If Dom was willing to abandon his life above the water, why was Billy intent on maintaining his below? For what else could explain this continued absence, the hole growing in Dom’s heart.

He wasn’t coming back. The lease on the cottage was up in three days, and Billy wasn’t coming back. Dom would return to LA alone, try to rebuild his life. After all, they hadn’t known each other long, he could rebound, find another lover, right?

Dom frowned, bile rising in his throat at the thought. He didn’t _want_ another lover. He wanted Billy. That small compact body, those dangerous eyes, that wicked smile... The silly giggle and comical grin. The subtle scent of salt and seaweed, that always lingered just beneath his skin. Dom wanted it back in his life, not just in his dreams.

So he waited, cold and alone, eyes reflecting the color of the water, a flat, hopeless grey. It was over. He was alone again. All the purpose, all the reason, everything he’d thought he’d found in coming to Scotland before…it was all gone again. And now he felt even more rudderless than before. Cast adrift. Alone.

 

Billy swallowed hard, turning over in his bed of soft kelp, listening to the whispers outside. His grandfather, the elders, deciding. It was forbidden for mers to reveal themselves to humans, and his grandfather had known immediately, from Dom’s lack of reaction when Billy’d changed, that that was exactly what he’d done.

But the mer couldn’t find it in his heart to care. He ached for Dominic, his skin all but itching for him. He wanted the lad in his arms again, wanted to make love to him, feel him, know him. Be with him, even if it was in the city of poisoned air and sorrow.

Instead he was stuck in his room, ignoring the apologies Liv and Orli tried to give, slipping in with food when they could. Ignoring their offers of help, to snitch him better food, more information…he didn’t care now. Not without Dom.

Never had Billy thought another would so completely capture his heart, and yet it had happened. He felt incomplete without the human by his side, in his arms during sleep. Without waking to the other, teasing him from dreams and taking him to new heights. Without swimming with him, air-filled kisses passing between them again and again.

Billy needed his Dom, and was slowly losing focus without him.

 

One day melded into another, and Dom let them pass. He stroked himself in the night, thinking of Billy’s hands, the slickness of Billy’s scales, the talent of his mouth. During the day, he went to the ocean and waited. Soon. Soon something had to happen, something had to change. Something had to break. Dom much feared it would be he, himself.

 

Liv came in the dark of night, her face determined. Billy could not continue like this, and she would end it, if she could. Risk the wrath of her grandfather, the consequences. But things could not thus continue, and Billy’s situation must be dealt with. She swam closer to his room, his prison, and prepared herself for what must come.

 

Lij phoned over and over, but Dom had stopped picking up. Stopped answering the phone, stopped returning messages. And not from him alone. Neither Sean nor Viggo could get through, either, and Elijah’s level of panic was rising. He’d _known_ the Scot was trouble, and booked himself a flight to Scotland. Once more he’d come to the rescue. Maybe this time, Dom would notice.

 

Dom had fallen asleep. He lay sprawled in the sand, moonlight on his face, dark smudges beneath his eyes. The cold night leached heat from his body as he slept, causing him to shiver without waking. Somehow in three weeks he’d lost weight and the luster, the shine, the _life_ had somehow gone out of him. Few who’d seen the Brit before would recognize him now, though his employers might have rejoiced, and made the make-up team study for Charlie’s withdrawal look.

But he lay, asleep, seemingly broken on a small stretch of Scottish beach, hopes and dreams for the future in sharp, almost tangible shards around him.

 

And that was how Billy found him, when he walked forth from the ocean, unsteady legs shaking beneath him.

 

 

 

To say they lived happily ever after would be lying. To say they lived would be true, and to say they loved greatly would be truer. Dominic woke to find his love above him, and tears were shed on both sides as Billy spoke of his exile from his people, his escape into the dark after Liv set him free. But no mer would follow him on land, and he told Dom in a shaking voice that it wouldn’t have mattered, in any case. His home was in the human’s arms.

Elijah found them tangled together on the living room floor, when he arrived, and felt himself an idiot for making the trip. He’d covered for himself, but for once his excuses seemed to fall from unpracticed lips, and Dom seemed to notice. Lij wouldn’t answer his questions, though, and merely helped them pack, wondering why Billy had so little if he was truly coming to live with Dom in the States.

And come he did, first setting up in Dom’s small apartment, then later moving—with great relief—to the Hawaiian sunshine. The water he now swims in is warm and clear, the mer he knows darker skinned, their songs oddly accented. But they have accepted him—and his human lover—and welcome them into their world. Things are more relaxed, in that world of sun and surf, and Dom and Billy continue to make their life together. For Dom was lost, and then found, and now counts himself lucky to be so.

Yet Elijah still yearns. And Billy’s eyes still turn to the east, and home, haunted by something he will not speak of, even to his lover.

 

 

But all that, my friends, must wait for another time. For this part of the tale (tail?) has ended.


End file.
